The Difficulties of Avoidance
by dead2self
Summary: AU following OotP After Ginny stumbles upon Tom Riddle passed out in a remote Hogwarts passageway, she resolves to have nothing to do with him. But when she gets pulled in to protecting him from Voldemort against his wishes, can she protect herself?
1. Testing the Waters

The Difficulties of Avoidance

by dead2self

**Summary: **(AU following OotP) When Ginny stumbles upon a young Tom Riddle passed out in a remote Hogwarts passageway, she resolves to have nothing to do with him. However, as he becomes more entangled in her life, Ginny is drawn into protecting Riddle from himself - if she can first protect herself from him.

**Rating: **T to be on the safe side. Tom is involved here.

**Ships:** Harry/Ginny; Ron/Hermione; other canon ships. **  
**

**A/N: **This story is AU after OotP (though it includes elements of HBP and DH such as history and characters) and is more or less something I write for fun... I just wanted to see two characters interact more and there weren't enough gen fics about them. Most interactions in this story are purely platonic (which I find infinitely more interesting, but so hard to find in fanfiction) with the exception of canon relationships (G/H, Hr/R, ect.) It should be noted here that I am a SLOOOOWW writer. Let me repeat that in terms you can understand: Expect a chapter a month and be pleasantly surprised if my muse kicks me into high gear. I have school, college applications, and the like. So, without furthur ado...

**EDIT 06/10/08: **Slight edits have been made to this chapter. Fill in those plot holes!

* * *

It was an almost normal day, but the colors had faded. No one had noticed, not even him. Then they swirled together; lines wavered; the edges of vision were fuzzy. A Pepper-up would do him good, but then the world shrunk, crinkled into a paper ball, and he crumpled with it. No pain involved, just folding. Then it all fell away, shattering like glass at the edges and working in towards him, and there was a terrible _pulling_. Worse than Portkeys or Apparition, the pulling stretched him both ways; the edges were getting closer. Darkness was beyond the edges, and then it was next to him. He touched it and everything snapped, whipping wildly out of control; he was flying and falling and being crushed into a ball, but staying in the same place.

When the world unfolded, he was lost to it.

* * *

Ginny's broom lurched dangerously when one of the Beaters scored a perfect shot on the shaft. "Watch where you hit that thing!" she roared, a second before Harry roared, "Peakes! Stop dinking your shots and put some power behind it!"

Almost at once, Harry realized what his command implied and he laughed uneasily before he tore higher up into the sky to look for the Snitch.

"Peakes, give me your bat!" Ginny called.

"Don't pull a McLaggen!" Peakes answered cheekily, rearing back as another Bludger approached. This one he knocked aside with such force it was clear he had taken Harry's advice to heart. "Watch out! Quaffle!"

Ginny caught the Quaffle just before it hit her head and immediately rolled into a dive to avoid the Ravenclaw player who had been hoping to intercept the pass. A satisfying crunch told Ginny either Coote or Peakes had scored a good hit, but she did not look back. The goal posts were looming and she shot; a roar of cheers erupted from the stands, but when they continued even after the Ravenclaw chaser caught the ball, Ginny realized it was not for her goal. Harry was streaking above the Pitch with the determined focus he only had when he was chasing the Snitch. And the Ravenclaw Seeker was in his wake.

Wheeling her broom around, Ginny raced after the Ravenclaw Chaser. Coote swept past her head, nailing a Bludger at the opposing Seeker. Just as Demelza intercepted the Quaffle, Harrry caught the Snitch and the game was over. The celebration that ensued kept the players from returning to the locker rooms for a good hour, but that was what happened when your house took the Quidditch Cup for the third year in a row.

"Brilliant catch, Harry!" Dean said, patting him on the back so hard his glasses rattled on his face. He was radiant with happiness, and with good reason; it was always a joy to win the last Quidditch game of your school career.

"Couldn't have gotten it without Coote," Harry answered, flashing an awkward sideways smile. Ginny snorted into her Quidditch robes as she tugged them over her head. Harry was so _silly_ about compliments.

He was right in front of her when she finally got herself untangled from the robes and he was wearing an uncharacteristically grim face for just having won a match. "Alright, Harry?" she asked.

"You know I didn't mean it that way, right?" he asked. "I mean, I would never want Peakes to hurt you."

Ginny had to stifle a laugh. She had quite forgotten that incident in the heat of victory. Sniffing daintily, she answered, "I'm sure…"

"Ginny!"

"She's only joking, mate," said Coote as he passed Harry.

"Right, I know," Harry answered, wheeling away quickly and tearing his own robes over his head. It did not stop Ginny from glimpsing his red ears.

There was an unspoken agreement that the entire team was forgoing showers. They were already missing the celebration in the Gryffindor common room. Ginny tied back her windblown hair and slipped her school robes over her head faster than any of her teammates, shouldering her broom by the locker room doors. Harry joined her a moment later, hair mussed from his struggle with the school robes, and took her by the hand.

"Hold up, you two!" Ron called after them, though his voice was muffled by his robes, which he seemed to be having trouble putting on. It may or may not have had something to do with the shrinking charm Ginny cast on his collar before the game. Whatever the case, it was nice to share the short walk up to the castle only with Harry before they joined the deluge of celebration upstairs.

The crowds swallowed them in applause when they entered the common room, but every time Harry caught her eye over the crowd, Ginny felt a smile rise unbidden on her face. It was an omen, she decided. They could be far apart after he graduated and still make this work. It was practically the same thing as making eye contact across the common room in the middle of a Quidditch Cup celebration.

Honestly, it was.

* * *

The next two weeks were as hectic as they were wonderful. Hermione had buckled down on Ron and Harry for their N.E.W.T.s, going as far as writing up color-coded studying guides that screamed at them if they did not complete the studying assignments Hermione indicated. It gave everyone quite a scare the first time Harry's bag screamed like a banshee, but Hermione was Head Girl and could get away with it.

Fortunately, every spare moment Harry got between studying for N.E.W.T.s and meeting with Dumbledore, he spent with Ginny. They talked a lot more than they had the last year when they went off alone. This year they spoke in subdued tones about how they were going to deal with the troubles of the next year. Harry was planning to go after Voldemort fulltime with the Order, while Ginny was returning for her final year of school. Ginny had tried – she really had – to drop out of school to go with him. Fred and George had turned out just fine without their seventh year, after all, but Harry would not hear of it. He was already reluctant enough to continue their relationship with the looming threat of Voldemort (on that count, Ginny was the stubborn one), convinced that Voldemort would not shrink away from attacking those whom Harry loved most. No matter how much Harry's convictions frustrated Ginny, it still raised butterflies in her stomach to think that Harry considered her to be the one he loved most.

It was just after Harry finished his last N.E.W.T. (a disastrous potions practical, or so he claimed) and Ginny had curled up against his side to contemplate their complicated relationship, when Luna Lovegood appeared in the Gryffindor common room. It was still a mystery how the Ravenclaw girl so often managed to guess the Gryffindor password. Ginny personally suspected it was because Sir Cadogan had taken an unhealthy liking to Luna ever since she sketched a lopsided castle in the background of his painting.

"Hello, Ginny," Luna said, ignorant of the eyebrows she was raising and the private moment she was interrupting. She held up a makeshift net made out of her wand and a sock, and grinned. "Are you ready to go hunting?"

It hardly seemed possible, but Luna looked more odd than usual. She was almost swimming in the baggy khaki outfit she was wearing, topped off with a safari hat that featured a radish dancing around its brim. A very long roll of parchment trailed from her back pocket, and upon seeing it, Ginny remembered her appointment with Luna.

"Oh, right!" she said, wriggling out of Harry's embrace with an apologetic smile. "I'm helping Luna look for her missing things again this year."

"And a few things that aren't missing," Luna added, to Harry's amusement.

Ginny giggled as they left the common room together. Luna's annual search for her hidden possessions had become much like a scavenger hunt, and Ginny had valiantly joined her friend since their fourth year. This was the first year Luna had dressed so extravagantly, however.

"What are you supposed to be?" she asked, just as they located a Uric the Oddball chocolate frog card in a crevice outside the Gryffindor common room.

"An explorer," Luna answered as she slipped the card into one of her billowing pockets. "I think I may want to be a magical naturalist after I leave Hogwarts, and every good naturalist must have a good exploring outfit."

"Naturally," Ginny answered, levitating Luna's butterbeer cork necklace down from where it had been hanging on a chandelier since the second week of school. Ginny paused for Luna to recover from laughing at the pun before continuing.

As the two girls worked their way down the list, it became increasingly difficult to find things. It did not help that Luna had lost her lucky paperclip and her complete collection of the works of Ragnok the Pigeon-toed. Even the usually level-headed Luna was becoming a bit frazzled over the idea of her copy of _Little People, Big Plans_ mildewing in the dungeons over the summer holiday.

"It really is a pet peeve of mine, mildewing books," Luna repeated, peering anxiously over Ginny's shoulder and shirking her duty to keep the tapestry from falling on their heads.

Ginny mumbled some non-committal answer as she tapped along the wall with her wand. "Where _is_ it—I swear Fred and George—Ah! Here it is." The stones faded away before them and Ginny stepped victoriously inside the rarely used shortcut. "We'll just check in here, and then we'll go straight down to the dungeons," she told Luna, who followed her in eagerly and let the tapestry fall over the entrance with a thud.

"_Lumos_." Ginny held her wand in front of her just in time to avoid running into a crouching figure in the narrow space. Then his all-to-familiar face caught the light from her wand.

Ginny screamed and stumbled back into Luna. The Ravenclaw girl caught Ginny easily and gently shoved her back to her feet, and by that time Ginny had recovered from seeing Tom Riddle glaring up at her. "Honestly!" she huffed. "This castle is positively infested with boggarts. I swear, if I have to see Tom Riddle dance the can-can one more time, I think I might kill myself." Leveling her wand at the boggart, almost lazily, Ginny recited, "_Riddikulus._"

Nothing happened. The boggart looked a little drowsy, but it had looked drowsy before she cast the spell. Frowning, Ginny prodded her wand at the boggart with more force. "_Riddikulus!_" Again, nothing. Except now the boggart looked more awake and more irritable.

Faltering slightly, Ginny repeated, "_Riddikulus! Riddikulus!_" The young man got to his feet, rubbing his temples but still glaring at her.

"Luna, you do it!" Ginny said, pushing the other girl forward with a note of panic in her voice. But as Luna stood before the boggart, her wand tracing lazy circles in the air, the boggart did not crack and take the form of Luna – sans strange accessories and quirky personality – like it normally did.

"He doesn't seem to be a boggart," Luna said after a moment.

At the same moment the young man seemed to regain his speech capacity. "Whatever you did, you're going to regret this," he spat, moving towards her on weak legs.

Before the adrenaline kicked in, Ginny felt so lightheaded she almost fell over onto Luna. Then everything was crisp and clear, and she leveled her wand at Tom Riddle with her heart pounding in her ears. "_Stupefy! Petrificus Totalus!_"

When Riddle toppled to the floor like a board, Ginny's knees gave way and she fell against the wall, her eyes never leaving him. "Get… Dumbledore…" she breathed, only vaguely aware that Luna followed her instructions. Ginny only had eyes for the nightmare lying across from her.


	2. Reluctance

The Difficulties of Avoidance

by dead2self

**A/N:** I am going to have to apologize ahead of time for the boringness of this chapter. There isn't really any Tom... I'm sorry! I know you want him, but I need to set things up. This is the set-things-up chapter. Warning: A lot of Harry/Ginny in this chapter. Don't worry, after this chapter it won't be a huge focus.

**Edit 06/10/08:** Reposted with slight edits.

* * *

Ginny cast another anxious glance at the chair in the corner of the room

Ginny cast another anxious glance at the chair in the corner of the room. Riddle was propped haphazardly in a chair, and he looked so stiff that he was bound to slide out of the chair any second. Or wake up, which would be worse.

"I _am_ sorry, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said, regaining her attention, "but you, of all people, understand why I must keep an eye on him until suitable security can be conjured up."

"I understand perfectly, sir," Ginny answered, tearing her gaze away from Riddle. "It's just a little… disconcerting, is all."

Dumbledore nodded and procured a tin of peppermints from his desk, offering one to Ginny. "And understandably so," he answered. "It's not every day that a ghost from one's past rears its ugly head."

"Except _he's_ not a ghost," Ginny said, jerking her head toward Riddle as she popped the hard candy in her mouth.

"He does seem to be of a tangible nature, doesn't he?" Dumbledore said, taking a peppermint for himself.

"But how?" Ginny asked, finally voicing the concern that had been fluttering incessantly in her head. "The diary was destroyed, wasn't it?"

"Completely," Dumbledore assured her. "I examined it myself." Ginny thought he looked conflicted when his eyes flicked toward the ceiling, but then he regained his composure and continued. "I suspect the appearance of this Tom Riddle has nothing to do with the diary, because I am quite certain this Tom is none other than his real seventeen year old self."

He paused to let Ginny digest this information, a pause Ginny desperately needed. She twisted full around in her seat and stared unabashedly at Riddle. It was half a minute before she could speak. "It's really him?" And before Dumbledore could answer, she added, "How?"

"I believe he is, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore answered sadly. "I can't be sure until he is awake and I can properly question him, but I have a few theories, all based on the presupposition that it was not Tom who transported himself into the future." Ginny opened her mouth, but Dumbledore cut off her question with an answer. "Correct me if I am wrong, but you stated that Tom looked out of sorts when he first woke up. In addition, you said he approached you with a threat concerning his current situation, which leads one to believe that he was not plucked out of time of his free will."

Ginny wrapped her mind around this, and then nodded. "But that doesn't explain how he got here."

Dumbledore sighed – a sound Ginny found horrifying when it escaped the lips of the greatest wizard of their age – and his eyes searched the ceiling again. "It is my intuition – and my intuition is usually right – that it was the Voldemort of this time that transported his younger self forward. For what reason, and which spell he employed, I cannot yet say. It is sufficient to say that we must keep Tom from falling into Voldemort's hands at all costs." His eyes returned to Ginny, and she saw that he was now resolute.

There was a low groan from behind Ginny and she almost fell out of her chair in fright. Gripping the armrests in white knuckles, she glanced over her shoulder at Riddle, who was finally stirring.

"I'm afraid this will not be pleasant," said the headmaster, already drawing his wand. "Would you kindly escort yourself out, Miss Weasley?"

Ginny did not have to be asked twice, and as she scrambled down the spiral staircase she faintly heard Dumbledore say, "Hello, Tom. I suppose I've gotten grayer since you last saw me…" Bursting from behind the stone gargoyles, Ginny stumbled into the waiting arms of Harry Potter.

"Ginny! Are you alright?" he asked, hugging her close. "We heard what happened from Luna."

"Yeah, I'm fine," Ginny answered, her voice wavering only slightly when she looked around at the concerned faces of Ron, Hermione, and Luna. "Dumbledore's questioning him now. He thinks Voldemort – the one in this time, I mean – brought him here."

A grim look passed between Harry, Hermione, and Ron. If Voldemort was planning something, it would affect all three of them when they began their fulltime assault after they graduated. "They're probably going to be awhile," Hermione said gently, breaking the silence. "It's almost midnight and we need to start packing in the morning. I'm sure Dumbledore knows what he's doing," she added, almost as an afterthought. They all allowed themselves to be herded back to the Gryffindor common room, realizing too late that Luna had tagged along. Hermione was beside herself. "Oh, Luna, why did you—Never mind. Here, take this hall pass, just get to bed…"

Usually Ginny would have been swallowing her giggles on the way up to her dormitory, but tonight she did not feel like laughing. It took hours of tossing and turning for her to get to sleep. When she woke up she was cold with sweat and had vague memories of nightmares about rooster feathers and ink. Harry rubbed her back when she came down to breakfast bleary eyed and still breathing hard.

The swirl of packing blurred in Ginny's memory as her mind remained focused on Tom Riddle. At any moment, she expected Dumbledore to tap her on the shoulder and explain what had happened, but that did not occur. The day passed and Dumbledore was absent. She finally saw him at the Leaving Feast, but he made no formal announcement about Tom, nor did he talk to her. Ginny half-expected it, and when she boarded the train to go home she tried not to think about the boy she encountered in the dark, cramped passageway. Dumbledore would sort it out and she would never have to see Riddle again.

* * *

The heat was sweltering. Ginny had charmed a paper fan to cool her down, but it had waved progressively lazier as the afternoon wore on. Luna was baking beside her on the front lawn, her usually pale skin a fluorescent red color. Ginny sighed again.

It had been more than a week since she had last seen Harry. He had been in and out of the Burrow with Ron and Hermione, always sweet and considerate when he spent time with her, but very vague about what they were doing. She could not venture a guess as to where he was now, but that was how it had been all summer. Ginny tried to remind herself that this was what she had signed herself up for, but that did not quell her frustration.

"We have school in two weeks, don't we?" Luna said drowsily.

The idea struck Ginny over the head like a two-by-four. It was amazing how she lost track of time during the holidays. "School…" she mumbled back, saying the word with distaste.

"I feel the same," Luna answered, rolling onto her back without flinching. Ginny winced for her; it was a terrible sunburn. Staring up at the cloudless sky, Ginny considered school. Her last year. N.E.W.T.s. A year without Harry. A year of worrying while he was off fighting Voldemort.

Riddle.

Trying to sound conversational, she propped herself up and peered over at Luna. "Luna, you remember our scavenger hunt last year, right?" she asked.

"Oh, yes. We never did find my paperclip."

"Well… No, we didn't. But do you remember that boy we found? Do you suppose Dumbledore's gotten rid of him?"

Luna stretched her hands toward the sky. "I don't know. Shall we send him an owl and ask?"

"No, it's not that important," Ginny answered, waving her hand dismissively. She lay down and stared into the sky without really seeing it. Dumbledore was involved, so there was probably nothing to worry about. And while Ginny told herself this, the rest of her family observed that their youngest became rather jumpy and out of sorts the last few weeks of summer – she hardly even reacted to being made Quidditch captain.

* * *

Ginny heaved a long sigh as she tried for the third time to shove her trunk into the un-magical taxi cab they were taking to King's Cross. The driver looked vexed enough as things were, but Ginny just could not get her trunk to fit. She doubted it would be a comfortable ride sitting with the trunk on her lap, though, so she put her shoulder into it.

"Here, let me get that." Ginny nearly fell into the trunk of the car as her luggage shrunk. A strong hand caught her mid-fall, and Ginny almost cried with happiness.

"Harry!" she shrieked, throwing herself into his arms. "We were afraid you wouldn't be able to make it!"

Harry laughed and kissed the top of her head gently. "I wouldn't miss seeing you off to school, what with it being an opportune time to laugh at you."

Ginny pulled back and punched him playfully. "You watch it, young man," she said sternly as Hermione and Ron approached.

"Just imagine," Ron said with a grin, "getting up at 7:30 in the morning every day and going to classes. I can't wrap my mind around it; can you, mate?" He nudged Harry in the ribs.

"Yes, this 'school' concept is strange to me," Harry said, edging away from Ginny's strong right arm. Behind the boys, Hermione rolled her eyes. The blaring of the taxi horn startled them out of their reunion and the quartet scrambled to get into the cab.

Mrs. Weasley had not planned on three extra people, so the space in the car was tight. Ginny sat on Harry's lap – to Mrs. Weasley and Ron's disapproval – but even so, they were so sandwiched that if Ron so much as scratched his head, he elbowed Ginny in the face. Needless to say, the ride to the train station was not pleasant. Ginny, however, was simply ecstatic that Harry was there.

She had not seen Harry for near three weeks, if you did not count the time he Apparated into the shed outside the Burrow to get an extra broom. He had only stopped for a brief hello then, and Ginny knew better than to question him about what they were up to. Harry would probably tell her when the time was right, like he always did.

Usually Ginny got on the Hogwarts Express as quickly as possible to ensure a good compartment, but this year she stayed on the platform with Harry until the engine was pulling away. After standing in the doorway and waving until Harry was no more than a speck, Ginny finally dragged her trunk through the corridors to find Luna.

Ginny found her in a nearly empty compartment, staring dreamily at the floor from her upside-down position on the seat. Across from Luna, three first year girls looked halfway between amused and horrified. They had somehow managed to squeeze themselves in the corner of the compartment in an attempt to get as far away from Luna as possible.

"Oh, hello, Ginny," Luna said. She waved at Ginny, lost her balance, and landed on her head.

"Good morning, Luna." Ginny levitated her trunk onto the rack and offered Luna a hand. Once they were both seated – upright – Ginny motioned to the three first years. "Who're they?" she asked.

"I don't know," Luna answered. "They couldn't find a compartment and I figured the compartment would seem rather lonely without the upperclassmen. There was a fourth one, but she ran away."

"Ah…well, hello girls," she said, waving to the first years. One squeaked. "I'm Ginny. This is Luna. What are your names?"

"HestiaLockeNataliePryneLauraBrooks," they all answered without breathing. Ginny snorted and looked over at Luna in amusement. Except Luna was not amused; she just nodded and smiled. With a sharp pang, Ginny realized how much she was going to miss Harry, Ron, and Hermione this year.

The train ride seemed longer than usual. The carriage rides seemed less magical than usual. The Sorting was bland, even when Hestia and Natalie got Sorted into Gryffidor. She picked at her food. When Dumbledore stood up to talk, she hardly reacted to his introduction of their new teacher, a Professor Slughorn, and Snape's reassignment to the Defense post. Even his annual speech about Filch's bans and the Forbidden Forest seemed drab. Then his eyebrows beetled, he drew himself fully erect, and he looked over the students with grave eyes.

"Now students, I say this with all the severity I can muster. Do not go into the seventh floor corridor, or we may very well have death on our hands."

The room snapped back to vivid clarity. Ginny's skin tingled and she knew. Her mind tore through Hogwarts up to the seventh floor corridor, where she knew the Room of Requirements was located. She knew. She could see _him_ sitting there. She knew that her face looked white and her freckles stood out violently. She knew she had not eaten anything all day and her head was swimming. Then she was falling backwards.


	3. Up to the Ankle

The Difficulties of Avoidance

by dead2self

**A/N:** I just wanted to give you all a heads up about my update schedule in November... I'm doing a challenge called NaNoWriMo in which I'll try to write a 50,000 word novel in one month. A lot of my creative juices are going towards that story, so Avoidance might be updating VERY slowly this month. Sorry!

Otherwise, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Edit 06/10/08:** Slight edits made. How many different ways can I say this? hmmm

* * *

Every instinct told Ginny to keep her eyes shut

Every instinct told Ginny to keep her eyes shut. But she opened them.

"I really must apologize, Miss Weasley," said a soft voice from her left. "I had planned to meet with you after the Feast was over. I admit, I did not realize you would react in such a fashion."

Ginny's cheeks flared up – that blotchy red color that made her look like a tomato, she knew – and as she looked at Dumbledore she simultaneously felt like screaming at him and pulling the sheets over her head in embarrassment. Instead, she made herself sit up, bite her lip, and wait for him to continue.

"As you have probably guessed, Mr. Riddle has recently taken up residence in the Room of Requirements. He is under the highest security Hogwarts can—"

In the end, Ginny was remarkably short-tempered. "So, he's 'Mr. Riddle' now, is he?" she snapped. "Why didn't you turn him over to the ministry? Instead of Azkaban, you're keeping him at _Hogwarts_, during the school year, with hundreds of students – at least half of them muggleborns – who he can kill if he gets out?"

"I did not believe the Ministry would be sufficient for his protection," Dumbledore answered simply.

"_Protection?!_" Ginny hissed.

"I'm sorry; '_Our_ protection' may be the more adequate term. Society's protection, that is. If you'll recall, I theorized that Tom – I'm sorry, the present Tom – brought this Tom Riddle into the present. I was correct." Dumbledore folded his hands in his lap and stared pointedly over his glasses. "Miss Weasley, forgive me for saying this, but I would not leave him in the hands of the Ministry to be snatched away by the Dark Lord anymore than I would hand over Harry Potter."

A chill went up Ginny's spine at the conviction simmering in the headmaster's eyes. She drew back. "What does Voldemortwant with him?" she breathed.

The headmaster began twiddling his thumbs ever so discreetly. "I am not entirely sure," he answered, "although I am fairly certain I have discovered how he brought Tom here."

While Ginny leaned toward him in curiosity, Dumbledore stopped abruptly and looked speculative. "Miss Weasley, in all future conversation, perhaps it would be easiest to refer to the present Tom Riddle as Lord Voldemort and the young Tom Riddle by his given name. I dislike the stigma created by his pseudonym, but for the sake of clarity…"

Ginny nodded, wishing only for him to continue.

"Where was I? Oh yes—the spell I suspect Voldemort used is not only complex, but highly illegal. I suppose Harry has told you of the Horcruxes?" His eyes twinkled for a moment, and, confused, Ginny nodded. "Yes, well, secrecy generally means very little in our school."

Ginny blushed again. "Only tidbits, sir," she murmured.

"Do not worry," Dumbledore answered, chuckling. "It only makes the explanation that much easier. The spell is similar to the one that creates Horcruxes in that it splits the soul in two. Can you see why?"

"I don't know." Ginny searched the ceiling for the answer. It was oddly speckled, but that did not give her an epiphany. "I suppose he could be in two places at once?"

"You're on the right track, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore nodded. "You see, if Voldemort had truly snatched himself out of time, he would not have been there to grow up, become the Dark Lord that he is, and plan to snatch himself out of time. It would create such a paradox that the universe might very well collapse on itself, which is why such a spell does not exist. Even if such a spell does exist, the fact that we can remember the name Voldemort and his deeds he has done is proof enough that it was not employed."

"So… He would be able to live in the past while existing in the future?" Ginny ventured.

"Correct, Miss Weasley. It is slightly more complicated, but that is the general gist of things."

"Complicated?"

"Yes. You see, you can never truly be half a soul. In the case of Horcruxes, you still possess a whole soul; it is only divided into different containers. However, a soul separated by time cannot exist. The split souls instead fill themselves back in, and as a result we have a whole and complete Tom Riddle on our hands. You can see the danger of letting him fall into Voldemort's hands, I assume."

After studying her bed sheets for a moment, she sighed. "I understand, sir."

The headmaster's eyes softened in relief as he reached out and patted Ginny's shoulder. "You needn't fear for your fellow students. We did have the foresight to remove his wand from his person. He's harmless without it, at least in the physical sense. Ever since he realized that I am assured of his guilt, he has developed a very sharp tongue. Luckily, I am the only one who must be subject to that." There was a pregnant pause before he added, "Unless you wanted to see the security for your own peace of mind?"

Even Ginny could tell that the suggestion was not actually a suggestion. She nodded slowly. "I think I'd like to," she said. "It would probably be for the best."

"Excellent," Dumbledore said, standing up. "It may be best to do it before classes begin. Is tomorrow too early?"

"That would be fine, sir," Ginny answered. She hid her shaking hands in the sheets.

"Madame Pomfrey will want you to stay in the Infirmary overnight, but I believe I can convince her to release you to your dormitory. I know they are infinitely more comfortable."

"Thank you, Headmaster," Ginny grinned. Dumbledore smiled back and moved towards Madame Pomfrey's office. That night, Ginny stared up at the canopy of her own bed until dawn.

* * *

­­

"Are you going to eat that?" Luna asked, leaning over Ginny's shoulder. Ginny stirred around her potatoes a moment longer and then handed her roll to Luna. "Thank you!" Luna chirped, squeezing in next to Ginny. Demelza shot her an odd look from down the table.

"Lovegood, go sit with your own house!"

"Are you feeling alright?" Luna asked Ginny, reaching across the table for the gravy.

Ginny sighed and glanced over at Luna. "Yes, I—" She stopped short and did a double-take. A shiny Head Girl badge was pinned upside-down on Luna's chest. It was a few seconds before Ginny could speak.

"_You_ got Head Girl?" she gasped.

"Yes." Luna dipped her roll in the gravy and popped the whole thing in her mouth.

"But you were in our compartment the entire time on the train!"

"No, you just didn't notice I left," Luna answered around a mouthful of food. At Ginny's incredulous look, she added, "It's true. I told you I was going but you only made a funny noise and kept looking out the window. It was quite bizarre."

Frowning, Ginny waved her hand dismissively towards the Ravenclaw table. "Maybe you should…"

Luna stopped mid-chew and looked over. "Oh, of course." She gathered up what food she had collected at the Gryffindor table, only to be accosted by a pale Slytherin boy who looked strangely ill.

"Lovegood, we have a meeting," he said stiffly, looking pained just for saying it. Ginny noticed the Head Boy badge on Harper's chest, and the way he wrinkled his nose hinted that he noticed the eccentric position of Luna's badge.

Beaming, Luna jumped to her feet and picked up the gravy. "Oh, I almost forgot. Lead the way."

Harper did not respond, but one Gryffindor did raise an outcry over the stolen gravy. "You don't mind if I take this, do you?" Luna asked, drifting away before anyone could respond.

"Head Girl…" Ginny muttered, shaking her head in disbelief. "She's going to drive him crazy."

"Dumbledore is going mad putting her in charge," said another seventh-year, Gregory Jones, as he moved over to fill in the gap Luna had left.

"She _was_ in the D.A.," Colin Creevey said around a mouthful of food.

"And she may be eccentric, but she's one of the brightest girls in our year," Ginny added.

Gregory snorted out a laugh. "Don't let her hear you say that, or she'll figure out some way to make her head glow."

Ginny leveled a scowl at Gregory and was about to snap back when a wiry hand closed around her shoulder. "Miss Weasley," Professor McGonagall said, "the Headmaster wishes to speak with you."

All the blood drained from Ginny's face. It must have been a drastic change, because immediately all the students sitting around her looked concerned. "I'm fine, I'm fine," she responded to their well-meaning inquiries, and got up to follow McGonagall. They had barely gotten out of the Great Hall when Dumbledore intercepted them. "I'll take Miss Weasley from here," he told McGonagall. "No need to walk more than necessary."

They walked briskly to the seventh floor corridor, and the entire way, all Ginny could think about was Tom Riddle's dark eyes boring into hers the second the door to the Room of Requirements opened. She could picture him there, seated on the floor, glaring, smirking, his head tilted slightly to the left in that perfectly arrogant way.

Abruptly, Ginny was in front of the door to the Room of Requirements, and Dumbledore was opening it. The room before her was hazy, like a cloud had engulfed the room. She could not see Riddle. They stepped through and Ginny felt as if an egg had been cracked over her head and was oozing down her spine. Shivering, she took another step and felt like her skin was on fire. Beside her, Dumbledore looked casual.

"Nothing to worry about, Miss Weasley. Simple defense mechanisms; one removes all charms and curses, the other all transfigurations. If you wouldn't mind one last step, it should remove all traces of potions from your body." Ginny nodded, and as she took the last step, a shiver ran up her legs and exploded in her head. Suddenly the room was crystal clear. Ginny staggered for a moment, and then her head cleared.

The room was dark, but her eyes did not need to adjust. From the floor to the furnishings, everything was plain; nothing was tattered, but neither was anything extravagant. Nothing furnished the room but the bare necessities: a bed, a chair, a toilet. An empty bookshelf stood against the far wall, but Ginny could see no trace of the books that should have been stored in it.

All this paled in comparison to the figure in the middle of the room. He was not facing Ginny; he was lying on the floor, his knees clutched to his chest and his back to the doorway. From what she could make out, his clothes were fraying at the hems and his hair was far more disheveled then how she remembered it.

Ginny started when the curled figure suddenly moved. Tom scrambled across the floor with such agility, she did not have time to jump away before he was at her feet, staring up at her with dark, wild eyes. "Please, you've got to help me!" he rasped. "That crazy old man is keeping me prisoner!"

When he reached for her feet, hands shaking, Ginny jerked away like he was the plague. "Get away from me!" she spat, aiming a kick for his face. He ducked his head in time to receive only a glancing blow to his shoulder.

The transformation was swift. Sitting up, Tom fixed Ginny in a deep glare and wiped the dirt off his face. "So, you're convinced of my guilt also?" he asked, his voice now strong and sneering.

It took every bit of self-restraint Ginny possessed not to hurl every sort of jinx and curse she had ever learned at Tom Riddle. Shaking so violently she could barely speak, she pointedly ignored the question and turned to Dumbledore – though still careful not to expose her back to Riddle. "So far, I'm satisfied. What is keeping him in here?"

"A weave of barrier spells, not unlike those surrounding Hogwarts itself," the headmaster answered. "And you may have noticed that the door disappeared behind us? It has been specially configured to reveal itself only to specific wand signatures. At the moment, mine is the only one it will recognize."

Ginny glanced at Tom, who was gazing hungrily at Dumbledore's wand. "Thank you, sir," she said quickly. "That's really all I wanted to see." The hair on her arms was starting to stand on end. She backed toward the door, and Tom turned his curious gaze on her. Ginny groped at the wall where the door was supposed to be.

"Who _are_ you?" he asked.

"If you don't mind, Sir, I've seen enough," Ginny said, her voice wavering at a feverish pitch.

"Of course, I'll just be a moment." The door handle appeared under Ginny's hand, and she stumbled out into the corridor. Closing her eyes, Ginny sagged against the wall. She was still breathing fast and the remnant of adrenaline kept her heart thundering in her chest.

"Well, what do we have here? Five points from Gryffindor, I think."

Ginny opened her eyes and glared half-heartedly at Harper, who was approaching with a satisfied grin. "What?" she breathed.

The Head Boy glanced over her disheveled appearance. "Potter not good enough for you? Has your current boyfriend run off already or is he still in the closet?"

For a moment, Ginny still had no idea what he was talking about. Then she realized that Dumbledore's defense charms must have negated her hair-smoothing charms and her short tussle with Riddle had left her robes uneven. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Harper—DON'T GO IN THERE!"

Harper had just started reaching for the "closet" door and Ginny lunged for him. Just as she managed to rip his hand away from the handle ("Trying real hard to hide someone, aren't you?"), the door opened.

"Is there a problem here?" Dumbledore appeared from within the Room of Requirements and waved his wand over the door to make it vanish. Ginny and Harper jumped apart and Harper looked a delightful shade of red.

"N-No, nothing, sir. Just doing my rounds."

"Delightful! I won't hold you up, then. Miss Weasley, thank for accompanying me. I hope you're satisfied with our… _guest's_ arrangements."

"As much as I'll ever be, sir," she answered. Harper looked on with rabid curiosity, and Ginny smirked at him. "If you'll excuse me, I have some work to do that I put off over break."

Dumbledore smiled and waved her away. "I wouldn't want to get in the way of your academic endeavors. Be on your way." Ginny could feel Harper's eyes on her back until she reached the end of the corridor.


	4. Shivering

The Difficulties of Avoidance

by dead2self

**A/N: **Whew this one took me awhile to write. I bounce back and forth between this fanfic and Small Victories depending on where my writer's block is currently residing. So, anyways, here's the next chapter. Once again a slow chapter... apologies.

**Edit:** I re-uploaded this chapter with a few changes in dialogue and a typo fix. Sorry about the extra alert!

**Edit 06/10/08:** Another edit. Slightly.

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Tom's glare was haunting her

Tom's glare was haunting her. Ginny had written Harry at least five letters in the last three days, all of them reiterating the same basic idea. She had paced the length of the common room for about an hour before she had sat down to write this one. At the moment, _Dear Harry_ was all that this parchment said. She tickled her nose with the quill, trying to think of the best way to begin, and then finally touched nub to paper and let her fears and frustration flow.

_Harry, I'm going out of my mind. Half the time I want to march up to the seventh floor and hex him out of his mind. The other half, I'm so terrified I want to hide under my bed like a first year all over again. And I haven't even talked to him properly!_

With a jerk, Ginny realized she had written a near replica of her last letter. Scowling, she _Scourgified_ the paper, crumpled it up, and threw it across the room. Then she bit her lip, retrieved the paper, fixed it, and then re-wrote the letter with an obligatory apology for being so annoying. She gave the letter to Pig, who Ron had sent her during the second week of school.

In the far recesses of her mind – the one section not preoccupied with Tom Riddle – she wondered if Ron had sent the little owl to her because it made too much racket for them to care for in a dangerous area. That small section of Ginny's mind was constantly berating her for being so inconsiderate; Harry was off facing a full-grown Tom Riddle who was intent on killing him, and here she was complaining about a prisoner who had done nothing to her since her first year. She almost took the letter away from Pig, but he darted eagerly out the window before she had a chance.

The Quidditch tryouts had been a welcome distraction, although she had quickly wished to be back in her room biting her nails over Tom Riddle. She had to replace a Keeper, a Chaser, and a Seeker (or two Chasers, if she decided to play Seeker), but her organization skills left something to be desired and the pitch erupted into chaos. Her original plan had been to test herself against both the potential Chasers and Seekers to see where her skills would be put to the most use. She desperately wanted the Seeker position, but having played Chaser for her whole school career, Ginny felt it was only fair that she try out with the rest of the potentials. Ginny was both delighted and disappointed to find a third year girl who shot around on her broom like a rocket and had a sharp eye, and – reluctantly – Ginny gave young Arabella Jones the position. Ginny felt her Keeper and Chaser selections had been less than satisfactory. By the time practices began, she found Quidditch to be less of a distraction and more of a reminder of how much she missed Harry and how jittery she became on a broom when she was consistently nervous.

Luna was little help in the whole situation. She had taken to eating meals with Ginny in the corridors because Ginny was having trouble handling the constant noise in the Great Hall. "It must be rather distressing," Luna mused, "being seventeen and suddenly being pulled out of time to a place where you're suddenly in trouble for everything you've never done."

"Yeah, about as distressing as being possessed by a diary during your first year," Ginny grumbled.

Luna looked hurt. "I was only trying to look at it from his perspective. It would be a very terrifying situation for any normal person."

Ginny speared a strip of bacon, clearly closing the matter. "Tom Riddle is not normal."

As usual, Luna was not perceptive of the finality in Ginny's voice. "Of course he is," she persisted. "He's not anything different than a normal human boy."

"No," Ginny replied, just as forcefully, "by this point of his life he would have already killed several people. And the part of him that he put in the diary did not show a _shred_ of guilt about it. That is not normal."

Luna said nothing more, although it was clear she had a lot that she wanted to say. Frankly, Ginny did not want to hear a word of it. They finished breakfast in silence, and she had just begun relaxing when her friend spoke up again.

"Maybe you should go talk to him."

"No!" Ginny cried, slamming down her fork on the stone floor so hard that the other girl jumped.

"But if you talked with him, maybe it would help—"

"No, it would not," Ginny ground out.

"It could help," Luna said. "What you're doing right now, it's not healthy." The Ravenclaw girl suddenly became bashful as she traced a pattern on the floor. "You're hardly eating, you just stare off into space, you barely talk… If I didn't know any better, I'd say a Knarkle had stolen part of your brain."

"It's a good thing you know better," Ginny said sullenly.

"I just want you to be okay," Luna said slowly, "because I don't think he will be going away for a long time."

Because Luna was her friend – and only because Luna was her friend – Ginny took a moment to turn Luna's suggestion over in her head. It was true that she had never truly received closure over the whole first-year incident. It had faded into the background, but the current situation had made it clearer than ever that she had not fully recovered. She could boldly face a Tom-boggart, but when the real deal showed his face, she was a weak-kneed, trembling eleven year old all over again.

Ginny opened her mouth to relate these thoughts to Luna, but her friend's attention had abruptly shifted away from Ginny. "Hello, Harper!" Luna chirped. There was a sharp intake of breath from somewhere on their left, and Ginny followed Luna's line of sight to a suit of armor standing in a nearby alcove. She was confused until she spotted a pant leg hanging back in the shadows.

"Hello! Harper? Hello?" Luna called, starting to get to her feet. Ginny didn't bother; she reached for her wand and one well-aimed spell spilled Harper out of his hiding spot.

"Oh, I _knew_ I recognized your shoelaces," Luna exclaimed. "Do you eat in the hallway also?"

Harper shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny of both girls, trying to look authoritative when he was obviously embarrassed. "I—"

"Obviously, he was eavesdropping," Ginny snapped, crawling to her feet. Depending on how long Harper had been listening, they might have a problem on their hands.

"That's ridiculous," Luna said. Turning to Harper, she planted her fists on her hips. "Harper is very responsible. He's Head Boy."

"How long were you listening?" Ginny said, stepping between the pair and leveling her wand at the Head Boy. Luna answered before Harper got a chance to draw a breath.

"He came up while we weren't talking, so he's probably very confused," she said. "Do you think we should explain?" Luna shouldered past Ginny eagerly, ready to explain the full complexities of Ginny's situation before Ginny pulled her back.

"Luna, don't," she hissed.

"Why not? He's Slytherin, so he might have some valuable insight into this." Once again, she turned toward Harper. "Have you ever killed someone before?"

Even Ginny was taken aback. Harper actually sputtered and backed away from the two girls. "You're plotting to kill _Potter_?" he asked incredulously.

Both girls blinked and exchanged a confused glance. That had certainly been out of the blue. "We weren't talking about Harry," Luna said slowly. "We were talking about—"

Ginny clapped a hand over Luna's mouth. "Someone else, though we aren't planning to kill him either." In a hushed tone, she hissed at Luna, "What are you thinking?"

"I thought he might know what Tom had been thinking, being a Slytherin and all," she answered.

"They don't _all_ go around killing people!"

"That's why I asked first."

Harper was shamelessly trying to follow their whispered conversation, leaning so far toward them that it was a wonder he had not fallen over. Ginny shot him a glare, and he snapped back to attention.

"Nevermind, Harper," Ginny said. "Just don't eavesdrop on us again, or you'll pay for it."

Harper managed to get back a little of his authoritative footing. "Threatening the Head B—"

"Ten points from Slytherin for suspicious behavior, by the way," Luna said abruptly, and Harper sputtered to a stop mid-sentence.

"But—"

"We can't have people lurking behind suits of armor at Hogwarts," Luna explained. "That's how the armor-spirits incited the student revolt in 1652."

Harper looked strangely at Luna and Ginny struggled not to join him. Hogwarts had never experienced a revolt, especially not one led by the castle's suits of armor. Still, Ginny was not one to argue when Slytherin was losing points, so she made an affirmative sort of sound and nodded her head in Luna's support.

"If you're going to be Head Boy, you had better start setting a better example for the students," Luna finished, and Harper desperately looked like he wanted to hex her. Luna looked unaware, because she sat down once again and patted the ground next to her as if to invite Harper to sit with them. He sneered and swept away.

"Nice boy," Luna said as she resumed sipping her morning coffee. "He's a very good organizer, you know. He keeps everything in color-coded folders."

Ginny hoped Luna would forget their conversation, but the Ravenclaw had a keen memory when she wanted. She breached the subject no less than thirty times by the end of the day, until, finally, Ginny snapped.

"If you want to talk to him so badly, go ask Dumbledore yourself!"

It was the worst advice she had ever given. After pestering Dumbledore for a few weeks, Luna went to speak with Riddle. She spent the afternoon with him while Ginny paced the common room in anxiety. When Luna turned up outside Gryffindor tower (they had just changed the passwords and she was not privy yet), Ginny was both relieved and annoyed – Luna was fine, but she would not stop talking about the young Dark Lord.

"He was quite pleasant to talk to… Didn't respond much, but he seemed very interested in the many conspiracies taking place in the Ministry. Did you know his favorite vegetable is a carrot? He didn't say, of course, but I could tell."

"Luna, _please_ stop."

"He was particularly interested in you," Luna continued, and immediately she had Ginny's attention.

"Why? What did you tell him?"

"I was telling him about my friends and he was just interested in you. I think it's because your hair is red. Anyways, I told him all about you – how you're a good hand at Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts, but not feeling very well lately."

"Luna…" Ginny groaned. "You didn't tell him about our first year, did you?"

Luna cocked her eyebrow in confusion. "Why would I tell him something like that? It's hardly a matter for idle chit-chat." Ginny heaved a deep sigh of relief until Luna added, "He asked if he could meet you, though. You could tell him yourself if you'd like."

"Of _course_ he'd like to meet me…" Ginny mumbled.

"Pardon me?"

Ginny turned and faced Luna head on, staring straight into her friend's eyes. "Luna. Please. I want you to stop seeing him."

Luna did not speak, but Ginny could see in her eyes that the answer was no. Over the next month, Luna visited Tom every three days. Out of respect for Ginny's wishes (it had only taken her a week to realize that Ginny truly felt uncomfortable talking about Tom Riddle), Luna never mentioned what went on between her and Riddle. It was common knowledge to both girls that they disagreed about him, and although they never talked about it, it became a point of contention between them. Every so often, when she thought Ginny's convictions might have changed, Luna suggested Ginny accompany her on one of her visits. Every time, Luna would insist on Riddle's humanity. Her crazy ideas got wilder with each rendition, until finally the Ravenclaw was convinced that they should smuggle Tom out to go with them to the Halloween feast.

"But he's so lonely all cooped up in that room all by himself. He's a seventeen year old boy who hasn't had any fun in _two months_." She glanced both ways down the aisle and pushed her escape plans at Ginny one more time. Ginny felt like something of a conspirator, surrounded by musty books in a darkened corner of the library.

"Luna, his idea of fun is different than ours," she whispered. "I know it doesn't seem like it, but he is evil. Now, forget about those…" She reached for Luna's plans with the intent of shredding them.

Luna saw straight through her intention. "You don't even know him!" she said sadly, pulling the papers away. "You refuse to go see him."

"I know him better than anyone! I spent an entire year with him _in my head_!" Ginny ripped the drafts from Luna's grip and whispered, "_Incendio._" She dropped them to the ground, smirking in satisfaction as they smoldered, and then stomped out the ashes. When she looked up at Luna, she was shocked to see that her best friend was smoldering with anger.

"Luna…" Ginny had never seen her friend so enraged. Luna's usually porcelain skin was a blotchy red color and her already thin mouth was pressed in a nearly non-existent line. Then, abruptly, Luna spun on her heel and walked quietly away.

"He's doing this on purpose!" Ginny yelled after her. "He's manipulating you!"

Madam Pince was behind Ginny in an instant, her nostrils flaring. "Fire in my library! Why I never—A detention! Fifty points from Gryffindor! Out of my library. Out!"

After that, Ginny had no choice but to tell Dumbledore what Luna was planning, and he quickly discouraged Luna from those endeavors. To Ginny's dismay, he did nothing to disallow Luna from visiting Riddle, and so Luna left the feast early with an armful of sweets to share with him. She refused to speak to Ginny, and for the first time since her first year, Ginny felt lonely at Hogwarts.


	5. Kneedeep

The Difficulties of Avoidance

by dead2self

**A/N:** Wow, I'm a chapter-writing machine tonight! Go Christmas break! Of course, this chapter has plenty of conflict, which is always fun to write. Enjoy!

I try to reply to a lot of my reviews manually, but I just thought I'd mention here how much reviews mean to me. I love constructive criticism, and although writing this story is just plain fun for me, knowing that people are reading it is just an extra boost. So... To those of you who have reviewed, thank you so much. To those of your who haven't... Thanks for reading anyways! R&R! Thanks!

**Edit 06/10/08:** Slightly this has been edited.

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In Luna's absence, Ginny was writing Harry more than ever. It got to the point where Hermione actually replied to one of Ginny's letters, restricting her to one letter per day. Ginny had smoldered for an afternoon before Harry wrote a follow-up letter explaining that they were all very stressed and her constant owls (not that he did not enjoy hearing from her—not that her troubles were enjoyable to him!) were something of an inconvenience. It was a humbling realization, but that did not quench Ginny's desire for someone with whom to talk.

So, instead, Ginny threw herself into Quidditch, which was probably a good thing since the Gryffindors had been flattened by Slytherin in their first match. It was the first time Gryffindor _had not_ caught the Snitch (excluding, of course, all of Harry's unavoidable mishaps) in seven years. Ginny mostly faulted herself; she had played so terribly at practice during the week that the team had voted last minute to put her in Seeker, hoping that her quick reflexes would make up for her inattentive flying. The match had taken place only a week after her falling-out with Luna, and she had not been in top form. Her emotional state coupled with her constant, underlying fear about Tom Riddle had put Ginny in such a state that the Snitch had zipped past her face _twice_ without her giving chase.

It was a gift from Harry that marginally alleviated her fears as she went through her days at Hogwarts – the Marauders' Map. He claimed he had no further need for it, not being in the castle himself, and in her hands it could be put to good use. Ginny was beyond thankful; with the map, she could keep tabs on both Riddle (though he did not technically appear on the map, having been locked in the Room of Requirements) and Luna. She resumed taking her meals in the Great Hall, her schoolwork improved, and she was decidedly _less_ of a mess than she had been the whole first quarter of the school year.

Although their involvement with the Order of the Phoenix had made Luna and Ginny fast friends, it did not mean that Ginny had forsaken her friends in Gryffindor. She got by without Luna; she had fun and she even found herself forgetting that she was mad at Luna – or even that she was missing Luna at all. Although they were taking almost all the same N.E.W.T.s, their interaction was minimal. She checked up on Luna using the Marauders' Map, and she knew that the Ravenclaw girl still visited Riddle on a regular basis. Sometimes she even went without Dumbledore as an escort, which worried Ginny. She had seen the way Tom had looked at Dumbledore when he knew that the erudite old man had been his only escape route. Ginny would not put it past Riddle to jump a girl and wrestle her wand away.

It was the times when Harry could not answer her letters that Ginny missed Luna the most. Obviously, she could not pour out her fears and feelings about Harry to anyone but another person deeply immersed in Order business. Luna was always so good at listening, and for all her social awkwardness, she really did give good advice. Luna, on the other hand, seemed just peachy without Ginny. She carried herself in the airy manner that she had adopted during the first five years of her schooling, and she seemed content to be friends only with herself. Whenever Ginny saw her, it made her alternately angry and sad, so that one day when she was studying in the library, she did something rash.

The Gryffindor study group rarely did much studying when the library was full of interesting people to watch—and taunt. "Look at her, walking around with her nose in the air," Eveline Knapper muttered, having looked up from her notes for a moment. "Thinks she's better than all of us…"

Beside her, Abigail Lawson nodded in agreement. "If you ask me, she's gotten a big head ever since she was made Head Girl."

Gregory Jones twirled his quill between his fingers and leaned back in his seat. "I'll say. She tried to take points from me last week for standing on a crack. Said I was trying to curse someone."

Eveline snorted. "She probably had a real laugh about it afterwards with…" She trailed off, and the whole study group went quiet as they realized they were sitting with Ginny. Ginny glanced at Luna, who was drifting between bookshelves not too far away, and as if sensing that she was being watched, Luna turned toward her. Then her eyes passed over Ginny like she was thin air, and something snapped inside Ginny.

She shrugged. "So she's socially awkward," Ginny said off-handedly, still looking at Luna. "There's one in every year… Personally, I think she's half-fae."

There was a series of nods across the table as people agreed. Luna had stopped moving, and Ginny knew that she was listening. Her eyes were wide and unblinking.

"Sometimes her eyes get that really silvery sheen, you know?" said Gregory.

"Yes, like when she stares blankly out the windows during class," Abigail cut in.

"There's that…" Ginny nodded, and pressed harder. "And you know about her mother, right? I hear fae eat their young. What if Loony killed her in self-defense?" She threw in an exaggerated impersonation of a rather tipsy Luna waving a wand around that brought her table to incontrollable giggles.

It was low and Ginny knew it. Very slowly, Luna blinked and turned away. Ginny watched as Luna left the room and the laughter from her table echoed tauntingly in her ears. The attention at the table shifted to a hunchbacked Hufflepuff who rarely talked, but Ginny felt like there was a rock in her stomach.

Finally, Ginny smuggled the Marauders' Map out of her bag and consulted it under the table. She caught sight of Luna disappearing into the Room of Requirements, and all of her conviction vanished. "Mischief managed," she hissed and threw the map roughly into her bag. Still, she could not help checking it every few minutes to make sure Luna was alright.

It was nearly an hour before Luna appeared on the map. When she did, her dot flew across the map so quickly that Ginny could barely follow it. Suddenly, she stopped in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Ginny snorted; Luna certainly was in the habit of making odd friends lately.

Ginny was almost the last person in the library when Harper approached her, looking sour as usual. "Weasley," he greeted her stiffly. There was a moment of awkward silence until Ginny prodded him to continue.

"You're friends with Lovegood, right?"

Ginny almost answered the negative, but Harper did not wait for an answer. "She's in Myrtle's bathroom right now, disturbing the peace. I tried yelling through the door, but she won't listen."

"I'm not sure I could—"

"I can't have the Head Girl going to pieces in the bathroom. Merlin knows she has enough issues with respect as it is."

Sighing, Ginny began packing up her things. "I doubt anything that I say will help."

Harper only shrugged and motioned for her to hurry. The moment they came into the corridor where the bathroom was located, it was clear why Harper had said Luna was "disturbing the peace." Still, Ginny thought that was a rather heartless way to describe someone bawling at the top of their lungs.

"Go on, then," Harper said, prodding her toward the door. Gearing up for a rather awkward confrontation, Ginny shouldered through the door.

"Thank goodness," groaned Myrtle from her seat atop the sinks. "Could you _please_ get her out of here? Won't stop going on about _Tom Riddle_. I remember that boy… very handsome, broke lots of hearts."

"Riddle?" Ginny asked in surprise, though she did not wait for an answer. She rushed to the stall where Luna was curled against the divider, and crouched next to her.

"I'm so sorry Luna," she said quickly. "I didn't mean any of it, you know. It's just… I haven't talked to you for so long, and I miss you… and…" Ginny was chilled slightly when Luna turned her watery grey eyes to look at her. Tentatively, Ginny reached out to pull Luna into a hug. There was something distressing about seeing Luna crying. For all her dreamy personality and eccentric behavior, Luna held herself together well.

A moment later, Luna spoke in a soft, broken voice. "It wasn't you. It was Tom." Ginny pulled away and stared at Luna, who looked down towards the floor sadly. "You were probably mostly right about him."

"What did he do?" Ginny asked urgently. Luna shrugged wordlessly. Ginny searched Luna's eyes for a moment, and her resolve hardened. "What's the password, Luna? Dumbledore gave it to you, didn't he? You've been going by yourself."

"Pepper Imps," Luna answered before she registered what Ginny had asked, but when Ginny stood up, her eyes widened. "Wait, Ginny, you shouldn't—!"

Ginny did not wait for Luna to finish her sentence. She dashed out of the bathroom, nearly bowling over Harper in her haste, and sprinted the whole way to the seventh floor corridor. She shouted "Pepper Imps" as she approached the door and slowed only a fraction to throw it open.

The security spells splashed around her like a waterfall as she burst into the room, her wand already drawn. "Riddle!" she bellowed, locating him in an instant. Before he even had a chance to speak, Ginny hit him with the strongest Bat-Bogey Hex that she could conjure. She crossed the room in quick strides and hauled Riddle to his feet, only to hit him again with a particularly nasty Stinging Hex that sent him reeling.

"I can't believe you!" she snarled. "A month, all she talked about was how _human_ you were, how good of a person you could be, how I should give you a _chance_." Ginny saw Riddle start to shift in her direction and she snapped, "_Locomotor Mortis_!"

Riddle's legs snapped together and he toppled onto the floor, catching himself only a moment before his face would have made impact. Ginny allowed herself a moment to feel disappointed, and then she realized that he was saying something into the floor. She caught only the tail end.

"…my fault she's foolishly naïve."

It was enough to rekindle the fire in Ginny's head. "Naïve?" she repeated. "Naïve! Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"Of course," Riddle answered smoothly, finally successful in propping himself upright and hauling his frozen legs in front of him. "It's all going exactly as planned."

"Planned?" Ginny asked, leveling her wand at him.

"Yes, planned," he said. "I was curious. You seemed especially wary of me when we met, but above all else, I wondered why the headmaster was showing _you_ his security measures." When their eyes met, an involuntary shiver laced up Ginny's spine, and Tom smiled as his point was proven. Her hands were shaking even though she had him at her mercy.

"At first I thought befriending your eccentric friend would lure you back, but then you got in a _row_, and I had to change tactics. Maybe I should have used this method from the beginning?" He smiled and motioned at her. "You came so quickly."

For a moment, all Ginny could do was stare at him. Hearing Luna talk about him, Ginny had almost forgotten what Tom Riddle was really like. Now it was obvious that the piece of soul he had deposited in the diary was no different than the whole package sitting before her. The hairs at the nape of her neck stood on end.

"You're pureblood, aren't you?" Tom continued, unaware of Ginny's thoughts. "Red hair… probably a Weasley or a Prewett, then, am I correct?"

Ginny struck fast, hitting him with a messy _Levicorpus _spell. Riddle was jerked up roughly by his ankle, and quivered uneasily in midair, as if the invisible string holding him up might break at any moment. "You hurt Luna so that you could talk to me?" she asked dangerously. She was surprisingly unaffected by the look of hatred Tom was flashing her.

"Flattering, isn't it?" Riddle spat, none too happy to be in such an undignified position. "Although it took her two weeks to realize I was being condescending…"

"Just to satisfy your curiosity…"

"… and another week or so to realize I was being downright nasty. The girl is a complete—"

"I've never seen Luna cry," Ginny said abruptly. "Not on the anniversary of her mother's death, not when she didn't have friends, not when everyone made fun of her – never. And you did it. So, I'm here; you talked to me. And you know what? You'll never see me again, and if I have my way, you'll be dead by the end of the year." She muttered the counter-jinx, and after Riddle crashed to the floor, she slashed one last, vicious _Tarantallegra _jinx at him for good measure. Then she turned toward the door.

And remembered that it only revealed itself to Dumbledore's wand.

She froze. A quick glance over her shoulder showed Riddle was still jerking around on the floor, trying to control his locked, dancing legs. All of Ginny's rage dissipated as she realized what a compromising situation she had placed herself in. It was already late, and the only person that knew Ginny was in this room was Luna Lovegood. Ginny could only pray that Luna had the sense of mind to remember that Ginny's wand did not have the capability to open the exit, but considering the state in which she had found Luna, Ginny somewhat doubted that.

"It seems I've made a rather stupid mistake," Ginny said as she approached Tom Riddle once again, this time casting a full-body bind on him. "I hope you don't mind some company for the night."


	6. The Second Leg

The Difficulties of Avoidance

by dead2self

**A/N:** This chapter is largely influenced by my favorite Ginny/Tom diary story of all time:A Very Secret Diary by Arabella. It's on Sugar Quill, and I believe it's also on fanfiction dot net. Go check it out; it's _phenomenal_. Fifty points to anyone who can pick out my particular nod to her amazing portrayal of Tom.

Anyway, this chapter is a little dark. Enjoy!

**Edit 06/10/08: **Actually, I think this chapter has more than a few edits...

**Edit 06/23/12: **Another quick edit to fix a line that I've never felt fit well in Tom's voice. Much better now. Additionally, fixed all Ginny's references to Tom as Tom instead of Riddle.

* * *

With the loss of adrenaline came a paralyzing fear so palpable that Riddle could probably taste it. Ginny maintained a measured distance between Riddle and herself, recasting the body-bind every time she thought it might be wearing thin. The silence stretched on between them for what was likely hours of time. Ginny did not dare risk lying down. Instead, she propped herself against the lone chair in the room and stared up at the ceiling. It was bare, boring, and did nothing to allay her thoughts. She had conjured a number of candles to brighten the room, but there was a darkness about it that clung to the corners like cobwebs. Being so close to Riddle, there was nothing for Ginny to think about except ink, roosters, and snakes.

There was something chillingly surreal about sitting next to the man who had tried to kill her when she was eleven. She could only barely refer to him as a man. When Ginny was younger, he had seemed so much taller, so mature. Now, she came up past his chin and she realized he was average height. He was still handsome, but he did not look as old as he had seemed during her first year.

It was only while she compared him to her eleven year old vision of him that Ginny realized Tom Riddle's right hand was swollen five sizes larger than his left. Riddle saw her looking at it, even from his position lying on the floor.

"Your friend got in a decent curse before she fled," he said curtly.

Pressing her lips into a firm line, Ginny looked pointedly away from Riddle. He would try to talk to her. He would be flattering, persuasive, intelligent – everything that had drawn her to him during her first year – and she did not want to relive that. She cast a Silencing Spell on him and tried not to look him in the eye.

Ginny could remember that last time that she had been alone with Riddle. He had been a pale shadow and she had been fading fast. He had laughed at her when she started crying, even though the effort of it had weakened her faster. Her last memory of him was of Riddle standing rapturously in the middle of the Chamber, reveling in his newly forming body.

"I hate you," she said softly. Ginny knew he could not answer, but Riddle was listening.

Ginny remembered curling up in her dormitory when Riddle refused to let her sleep. She felt him taking control of her hand and fondly tracing out his name on the diary, and then the terrible anagram. Her eyes had rolled back into her head, but Riddle had not let her go that easily. He dragged her back to consciousness to tell her _exactly_ what he was going to do to her and to Harry when she escaped to the Chamber of Secrets the next morning. She had not been allowed to cry.

"I hate _you_," she clarified. Not just Lord Voldemort of the present like everyone else, she thought. You, the one who made the diary even before all the other terrible atrocities.

She remembered frantically locking her wand in her trunk and waking up with her hands scratched raw from clawing it open. She remembered how pale she had gotten and how all her classmates had been so concerned, especially when she became unable to hold down a meal. She remembered pouring out her feelings about Harry and being terrified that the diary would tell all, and then stealing it back and her wrist nearly breaking in Riddle's frustration. Waking up with feathers and blood on her robes, Percy catching her sleepwalking, stealing Abigail's wand because Percy was keeping hers for safekeeping over the weekends. All of Riddle's anger when she could not escape from under the teachers' eyes when he wanted her to, his threats to use her hand to hex her classmates if she did not make an effort to allay their concerns for her, raising her wand against Percy when he stood between her and the portrait hole.

There were snatches of time where she could remember nothing at all – those had always scared her worst of all. The times when she had come to her faithful friend in confusion – _"Tom, where _was_ I on Halloween night?"_ – and he had gently convinced her that she was going mad.

Ginny remembered when she had considered Tom her very closest friend. Most of all, she remembered the slow realization that he was the farthest thing from a friend. He had laughed at her feelings of betrayal.

"I _HATE_ YOU," Ginny spat, shooting to her feet. Riddle's eyes followed her, and she knew what he was thinking without being a Legilimens. "Do you want me to apologize?" he would say with a laugh. "Would that make you_ feel _better? Beyond that, do you think it _matters_ to me that a silly little girl _hates_ me?"

Everything that Ginny knew about hate, she had learned from Riddle. She had complained so often using the word "hate" that when Riddle finally revealed his real nature, it was the second of her flaws (the first being her pure stupidity) that he had attacked. "You know nothing about real hate," he had written. "Real, burning hatred." A month or so later, when she had started calling him Riddle, he had written, in good humor, "Ah, there it is – a matchstick of burning hatred. You'll notice I have no cause for alarm."

He had laughed at her then, and his eyes were laughing at her now. Properly chastised without Riddle speaking a word, Ginny ran her hands through her hair and paced the length of the room.

"Someone found my diary."

Ginny jumped and issued a small squeak of surprise. She had not realized it had been so long since she had cast _Silencio_. Riddle was still stiff as a board, so she approached him slowly, letting all her resentment burn in her eyes. "_I_ found your diary," she said coolly.

As she looked down on him, Riddle's face darkened. "Then it obviously failed."

"Oh, please, it's not as bad as you make it sound," she sneered, leaning over him. "You had the entire—"

Abruptly, Riddle's hand shot out and captured her wrist, and with a swift jerk he brought her to her knees. With his other hand, he caught the side of her head, thumb jammed in her temple, and held her still so that their eyes were locked. Too late, Ginny realized what he was doing, and the room began to swim before her eyes.

Images from her first year flashed through her head. Finding his diary in her secondhand school books… Whispering to the sinks in Myrtle's bathroom… Crying herself to sleep on top of a book that was her only friend… Amnesia, feathers, and blood… Watching the Petrified victims get carried up to the Infirmary, having the vague feeling she had been a part of something terrible… The terrible betrayal… Waking up in the Chamber of Secrets to a dead basilisk and a blood-soaked Harry Potter… The relief of telling Dumbledore everything and the Petrified victims all recovering—

"NO!" Ginny was ripped back to reality as Riddle threw her away from himself in disgust. She fell back, still breathing heavily, and watched in horror as Riddle staggered to his feet. "No one died?" he cried incredulously. "All my work _ruined_ by a foolish twelve-year-old boy?" His dark eyes flashed to Ginny and he advanced on her. "And the stupid, foolish girl who could not even manage the simple task of killing Mudbloods with a _basilisk_ – one of the deadliest creatures on earth! How dimwitted are you?"

Ginny scrambled away, trying frantically to wrestle her wand out of her pocket. "Lucky," she said. "Very lucky." She had it in her hand. He was reaching for her wand, but she was faster.

"_Petrificus Totalus!_"

This time when Riddle hit the floor, it was face-first and Ginny only marginally managed to avoid getting squashed. She scrambled to her feet, her heart pounding loudly in her ears, and she looked down on Riddle. "I got lucky," she repeated. "Merlin, I got lucky…" It took her a few minutes to catch her breath, all while avoiding Riddle's murderous gaze.

Ginny's wand wavered in her grip. There were so many things she could do to him right now; so many things that she _wanted_ to do to the defenseless boy. Spite bubbled up inside her, and she cast an Itching Spell on him, watching in pleasure as his eyes screwed up with discomfort. It was not enough. Ginny knew she would probably be capable of producing an _exceptional_ Cruciatus Curse at the moment. Maybe if she got him screaming loud enough, it would alert someone in the castle that she was trapped with him.

Ginny raised her wand. "_Cru_…" Something – her conscience? – stayed her hand and she considered using a lesser spell. She had read about a finger-removing jinx. Any number of common kitchen spells could do a world of harm when used on another person.

Riddle started laughing, clearly observing her indecision. Snarling, she made up her mind on a gouging spell, and lashed out at his already damaged right hand.

Riddle let out a short hiss of pain, but her attack did not do anything, and Ginny knew it. Tom Riddle would _never_ feel remorseful, and no amount of torture would change that. She knew what he would do if he was the one with the wand and, undoubtedly, he would do it without the slightest hesitation. She wondered if emulating what he would do counted as sinking to his level or exercising self-defense.

"You obviously have not grown smarter," Riddle said through gritted teeth.

"No…" Ginny murmured, though she was not sure exactly what she meant by it. Slowly, she buried her face in her hands. She had the wand. She had _dreamed_ of retribution. And now that the opportunity presented itself, she could not do it. She wanted to – oh, she wanted to! Her face contorted with unshed tears and she tried hard not to let a sound issue from her lips.

"Oh, lovely; now she's _weeping_. What is wrong with you? You have the wand and I'm at your mercy. Go on; give it your best go."

"I can't!" Ginny screamed, throwing her wand. It bounced off his face in a shower of red sparks.

"Of course you can't," Riddle said. "Someone as weak as you couldn't cast a _Crucio_ to save their life."

"I could," Ginny bit out. Her voice wavered, but it was not for lack of conviction. "I could, and I could—no, I would _kill_ you. But I can't… I'd be just like…" She met his eyes for a brief second before tearing her gaze away, and crawled over to retrieve her wand, tears finally streaking down her face. A gulping sob escaped her throat as she pocketed her wand, and then she covered her face with her hands.

"I really want to…"

"Well, we all want things."

A harsh crack echoed through the room as the door slammed open. Dumbledore hurried into the room, wand in hand, and Riddle was tossed across the floor, away from Ginny. Luna followed not far on Dumbledore's heels, bobbing urgently to see over his shoulder.

"I'm sorry!" she called to Ginny. "I tried to get him faster, but Madam Pomfrey caught me on the way up to the headmaster's office. And then the door wouldn't appear—the security spells…" Then, as she noticed the tearstains on Ginny's face, Luna rounded Dumbledore and half-fell on Ginny in a hug. "Are you alright?"

Ginny took a deep, shuttering breath, and then let out all her emotion at once, sobbing into her friend's shoulder. Luna's eyes widened, and awkwardly she patted Ginny on the back. Meanwhile, Dumbledore moved across the room to check Riddle.

"Don't look at me like that, you old coot," Riddle snarled as Dumbledore removed Ginny's curses. "I haven't done anything."

"As always, Tom," Dumbledore said quietly. He took up the boy's hand with a frown, and passed his wand over the wound, leaving a rough scar in its wake. "I must admit, I have never had a steady hand with Healing magic," he added, "You'll have to cope."

Luna got Ginny to her feet, and ushered her out of the room, followed closely by Dumbledore. "Did he hurt you?" she asked. Ginny shook her head and tried to tell Luna that she was not crying because of anything Riddle had done, but it came out sounding something like Mermish.

"Professor, I think he's done something to her mouth," Luna said. Dumbledore looked solemnly over Ginny and shook his head.

"No, but I believe it may be time for Miss Weasley and I to have a talk."

Ginny recoiled from the idea; she did not know what she was feeling yet, and the last thing she wanted to do was talk to someone before she had that figured out. With effort, she swallowed her tears and choked out, "With all due respect, Professor, I just want to go to sleep."

Dumbledore nodded knowingly. "All in due time, then. Miss Lovegood, would you please escort Miss Weasley back to her dormitory? And Miss Weasley? My office is always open."

"Thank you, Sir."

Neither Luna nor Ginny said anything on their trek up to Gryffindor Tower, but there was an unspoken agreement between them – they were friends again.


	7. Frozen in the Shallows

Difficulties of Avoidance

by dead2self

**A/N:** So, after a VERY long hiatus, I finally have a new chapter for my very small number of readers. haha... I edited the earlier chapters and reposted them today. Unfortunately, I still don't have a beta! Every time I think I've got one, they end up ignoring me and it never happens. It's enough to dishearten a person, so I've pretty much given up on that front. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter, despite it being Tom-less. It's been a long time in the making.

* * *

Ginny was dangerously inattentive in her potions class the next morning, made only worse by the presence of their former professor in the dungeon

Ginny was dangerously inattentive in her potions class the next morning, made only worse by the presence of their former professor in the dungeon. Snape sat at his old desk, scowling and looking none too happy to be filling in for Slughorn, who had taken a sudden, convenient sick day on the same day as a highly anticipated Holyhead Harpies match. Beside Ginny, Luna was leaning precariously over their cauldron to squeeze the pus out of a bubotuber, a practice Ginny would have usually corrected quickly. Ginny was at work dicing a particularly sticky slug, but her mind was not on their Gregory's Unctuous Unction.

In her mind, Ginny was still standing over Tom, ready to cast the Cruciatus Curse. Something had stopped her, but Ginny was no longer sure it had been something within her that had stayed her wand. The more she though about it, Ginny was sure: there had been something different about Tom Riddle. She had spent all morning trying to put her finger on it.

At first she had assumed that it was simply his appearance. But that was ridiculous, because he had been an exact copy of her memory when she first found him. In addition, she had spent very little time during her first year actually seeing Riddle. The most she remembered about his appearance was his hair and his eyes, and that was only because he heavily resembled Harry in those respects. Why would she notice a difference in something she had not noted in the first place?

"Miss Weasley, if you mangle that slug any further, it will be of little use to anyone." Ginny jumped and looked guiltily over her shoulder where Snape was hovering, his perpetual sneer deeper than usual. "Perhaps if you spent more time focusing on your schoolwork, and less time daydreaming—"

"LUNA!" Ginny, having looked past Snape in an attempt to ignore the oncoming lecture, had caught sight of something disastrous. Luna was bending to retrieve a handful of pomegranate seeds that she had dropped, and when she emerged from behind the cauldron, the tips of her hair were on fire.

Ginny's mutilated slug was quickly forgotten as Snape swooped into action. He was lucky that Luna was the victim, as any other student would have been shrieking and making quite a scene. Instead, Luna stood as if Petrified and watched Snape cautiously out of the corner of her eye as he snatched up nearby knife, took Luna's hair in a fistful, and chopped off her smoldering locks. Shrieks of protest rose from a gaggle of girls who would have rather gotten their scalps burnt than an impromptu haircut from Snape, and Ginny winced rather sharply herself at the damage. As Snape drew his wand and (now that there was no danger of casting a strange spell on Luna's head) extinguished the flames, Luna examined her reflection in her silver knife. When Snape reluctantly offered a Hair-Growing Charm, Luna declined. "I rather like it this way," she told a dubious Ginny.

Snape was not humored. "Miss Weasley, in the past, you have been allowed to work with your friend only because you have shown an aptitude for preventing her more atrocious disasters," he said. "If you cannot manage this, I will have to disallow your partnership."

"Oh, please don't!" Ginny said without much conviction. Luna had already had her fair share of Potions mishaps this year and Ginny would not be completely devastated if they were forced to work with different partners until Slughorn returned. Luna looked slightly more dismayed at their impending separation, as did their classmates, who were currently developing excellent Gregory's Unctuous Unctions. Snape did not enforce his threat at once, but when Luna dipped her sleeve in their undiluted potion ten minutes later and corroded it up to her elbow, Snape did not take kindly to it. He reassigned her to Patrick Swift, who looked utterly defeated.

Upon their departure from class, Ginny realized Tom had worn the same expression in the moment that she had stood over him and he had egged her on to curse him. He had looked _defeated_. Ginny imparted this knowledge to Luna, who acknowledged it with a mere hum, her hand feeling awkwardly at her newly bared neck. Luna had been disinclined to talk about Tom all morning, so Ginny resolved to work through the issue on her own.

Although Ginny had concluded that Tom had looked defeated, she was not content to stop there. There was something so wrong, so contrary, in Tom being defeated. But why else would he have asked her to "give it her best go"? Did he want to get hurt and be done with everything?

Ginny continued this train of thought well into lunch, and often found herself missing her mouth and depositing food into her lap. It was hard to say whether or not Tom was acting naturally, as she had never before held him in her mercy. During her first year, she had acted to his every whim.

A light bulb went off in her head just as she overturned a pitcher of pumpkin juice into Eveline's lap. Tom _had_ once been at her mercy, the very first time she opened the diary – maybe even for the whole first week when she still had the opportunity to give it back or tell her parents. Thinking hard, delving into the crevices of her mind that she had left long untouched, Ginny tried to recall how he had acted then.

Sweet. Caring. Very reassuring, and always morally upright. And with a careful manipulation of her emotions, her loneliness, and her fears, he had slowly enticed her to his side. And if she ever once doubted whether or not she should keep the diary, or if she ever forgot to write to him and give him strength, he had gently drowned her with guilt. And now…

"_Go on; give it your best go." A knowing smirk, if only in his voice. _

Without warning, Ginny let out a frustrated shriek and slammed her hands down on the table, making her housemates jump. She had done it again! She had let Tom Riddle appeal to her conscience and blatantly manipulate her, and she had danced to his tune without a second thought. Of course, by that time he would have known she was incapable of the curse, however much she had wanted to perform it; in the very least, her angry response to his treatment of Luna would have tipped him off that her first instinct was not anything more than paltry curses. Self-loathing bubbled up in her head for a moment before she frantically tried to push it away; _he_ should be the focus of her anger, not herself.

She took her notes in Transfiguration with a violent intensity, stabbing at her parchment until her script was nearly illegible. It made perfect sense in hindsight. How could she even think for a minute that Tom Riddle had been defeated? His present self had survived years as a body-less spirit in the black forests of Romania; by comparison, Riddle's current situation was painless. If he could escape the Room of Requirements and get his hands on a wand, the world was his playground.

And now she was back to square one, because even if Riddle had twisted her around his finger, there had still been something different about him substantial enough for her to notice and stay her wand. But before she could devote anymore thought to the subject, McGonagall instructed them to draw their wands. To Ginny's surprise, Luna drew her wand from her robe pocket.

"Luna, why aren't you keeping your wand behind your ear?" she whispered.

Luna glanced up, and Ginny was surprised to see that her expression was guarded. "Oh, I just realized that it was a rather volatile way to hold it, that's all." Luna turned her attention to the turtles Professor McGonagall was handing out, and Ginny did likewise. It was not long before her mind drifted back to Riddle and Luna's eccentricities were forgotten.

It was not until Quidditch practice that Ginny put her finger on it. The realization came to her like a Bludger to the head—literally, she nearly got unseated in the process. Coote and Peakes were trying their level best to catch her, and Ginny had been pushing her brother's old Cleansweep 11 to its limits to avoid their shots. Just as she twisted into a nosebleed dive to avoid a Bludger, she recognized the behavior that she had observed in Riddle.

He had been desperate, and it was frightening. In the past, Riddle had been so sure that he could overcome her and escape from the diary. His underestimation of both Harry and herself had caused his downfall, but now things were different. Tom Riddle was no longer in control, and so he would anything and everything in his power to turn things his way. And knowing the amount of power that Lord Voldemort held, that was a terrifying thought. Ginny ended practice early and the chilling November wind had nothing to do with how much Ginny shivered on the way up to the castle.

When she burst into the common room, she was relieved to see Luna engaging two uncomfortable first-years, Hestia and Natalie, in conversation.

"Ginny!" Luna called, breaking off her train of thought as soon as she saw her friend enter the room. A good majority of the common room looked relieved when Luna rose to meet Ginny.

"Luna, you really can't come in here, nice as you please, whenever you want," Ginny said, taking her by the arm to lead her out. Despite her attempt to lighten her tone, Ginny still felt her voice shake.

"My dear," said the Fat Lady as Ginny closed the portrait hole behind them. "You look pale as a sheet."

Ginny muttered back some semblance of a response, hoping she sounded angry, but Luna had already started staring at her in concern. Once they were out of the earshot of any nosy portraits, Ginny took a steeling breath.

"I've been thinking about Riddle."

Luna stopped walking, but did not reply or make eye contact.

"All day," Ginny continued slowly as Luna watched an empty tapestry, whose inhabitants were well known for their nighttime socializing. Abruptly, the severity of the situation hit Ginny, and she pulled Luna around by her shoulder.

"We have to stay away from him at all costs. He's desperate, Luna," she said urgently. "He'll do anything to get out, and that's what makes him more dangerous than before."

Luna avoided eye contact, and studied the floor extensively. "I could have told you that," she replied after a pause, fingering her neck. She dropped her hand quickly, but she had already drawn Ginny's attention. Now that she had caught sight of them, the bruises on Luna's neck were hard for Ginny to miss.

"Luna, what happened!" she cried, pulling Luna's cropped hair away from her face.

"Well, Madam Pomfrey got most of them before I could get away with Dumbledore to come after you…" Luna answered vaguely, still avoiding Ginny's eyes.

"There were more?" The ugly bruises on the sides of Luna's neck looked painful enough on their own.

"I never really expected Tom to attack me… so…" Luna looked up while Ginny faltered for something to say, and the dam broke. "I was just talking at first, and… he got so angry, I couldn't believe it. He started yelling terrible things about… Then he—well, I didn't have time, and his hand was around my throat and I was on the floor. I think he reached for my wand, but there was a bang… and he let go. And I ran away."

Although she did not cry again, Luna's eyes were shimmering. "I had no idea," she whispered. "At first, when he was being contrary, I thought he was getting affected by the Dust Mice that appear in solitary confinements. We spent a whole day cleaning the corners of the room and it didn't help at all. I should have known by then that it was really just him."

A knot screwed up in Ginny's throat, and wordlessly, she folded Luna in a hug. They stayed like that until Luna broke the silence.

"So, we'll both stay away."

"Yes." Ginny pulled back and wiped at her eyes, although they were dry. "And I'd better talk to Professor Dumbledore."

* * *

Ginny was strangely reminded of her first year as she sunk into the chair opposite Dumbledore. The whirring, puffing instruments still made her nervous, but she was glad to see Fawkes preening on his golden perch by the door. The last time she had sat in this position, she had been explaining to Dumbledore, in between sobs, about the diary and Riddle.

The Headmaster settled into his own chair with an amiable smile, although Ginny suspected he was having similar thoughts to hers. "Now, Miss Weasley—"

"Ginny," she interrupted. "You can call me Ginny, sir. You call Harry by his first name, don't you?"

"Indeed, I do," Dumbledore answered, now with a smaller, more genuine smile. "Ginny, then, I believe you wished to talk to me about Tom?"

And so Ginny told him everything: her argument with Luna, going to see Tom in order to avenge Luna (here, Dumbledore frowned at her lack of judgment, but said nothing), her emotional breakdown, and consequential thoughts.

When she was finished, the professor nodded gravely. "Indeed, Ginny, it has been apparent to me for quite awhile that young Mr. Riddle is willing to employ any means to escape. He is a young man of terrible capabilities. "

When Dumbledore put it simple as that, Ginny felt rather foolish; the realization that had taken her a whole day to work out had already been in the headmaster's hands for several months. But instead of making her feel foolish, Dumbledore continued the conversation.

"But consider for a moment, Ginny, Mr. Riddle's behavior. In his desperation to escape, he is still very level-minded. Can you see why?"

Having just recently touched on the idea that Tom Riddle was desperate, Ginny was not sure how to respond. "Well… I reckon he hasn't killed anyone yet," she answered uneasily.

Dumbledore chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head. "Indeed, but furthermore… During the many visits in which Miss Lovegood was alone with Tom – which I do regret in hindsight – there were surely many opportunities for him to steal her wand. Even without magic, Tom Riddle is a very capable young man of… great charisma. But instead of striking out blindly with a wand, he bided his time and waited for _you_. You, who he suspected could provide a higher knowledge of the situation than Miss Lovegood."

"You mean…?"

"No, prior to this incident, Tom had no knowledge of why he was being held captive. I am sure he suspected some sort of time travel because of my appearance, but he did not know the year or the circumstances surrounding his life. I must admit, it was a disadvantage I had naïvely hoped to keep him in."

A fresh wave of shame swept over Ginny. "Sir, I'm _so_ sorry…"

"As I said, it was naïve of me to believe I could keep Tom Riddle in the dark," Dumbledore said. "Now all we can do is to adjust accordingly."

The worry must have betrayed itself on Ginny's features, because Dumbledore's eyes softened as he looked at her.

"You can be assured, Ginny, that I have taken every precaution where Tom Riddle is concerned. He is trapped, and no matter how desperately he may long to escape, he cannot. You have nothing to fear from him, unless you happen to do something very foolish."

Ginny shook her head and set her jaw stubbornly. "I plan to avoid him under all circumstances," she promised, and she meant it.


	8. A Nudge from Behind

The Difficulties of Avoidance

by dead2self

**A/N:** Hello readers (if I have any left!). I'm currently in the middle of my Read-through-all-the-HP-books-before-the-new-movie ritual, and it has put me in quite the Harry Potter mood! I cracked open the dusty old HP fanfiction folder on my computer, and lo and behold there was a chapter finished from this story that had not yet been posted on FF. net! I can't claim that much happens in it, nor can I promise a quick update any time soon, but if you've been waiting on this story, I hope you enjoy it anyways.

**Edit 06/23/12: **Because I remembered that Bill and Fleur exist and should probably be included in Christmas.

* * *

After a disastrous first term, things were finally shaping up for Ginny. Luna was no longer visiting Riddle, so the stress of worrying about her had been lifted off Ginny's shoulders. Slowly, as she adjusted to the knowledge that Tom Riddle was not an imminent threat, Ginny began to climb out of the slump into which she had sunk.

Quidditch practices began to look like an organized affair, and Ginny was coming into her own as captain. She found herself often pouring over more game strategies than schoolwork, but she was determined not to lose Gryffindor's winning streak. If her inattentiveness in one match cost them the Cup, Ginny was sure Harry, and certainly her own brothers, would never let her live it down. The odds were in their favor; Ravenclaw had flattened Hufflepuff, and were projected to win against Slytherin for the first time in nearly twenty-five years. Luna was ecstatic, but Ginny was now doing all she could to guard her team against the two brilliant Beaters the Ravenclaws had uncovered.

Just as Ginny was getting into the swing of things, Christmas holidays were upon them. The professors rushed to squeeze in the last of their lessons before the break, and in the deluge of tests, Ginny hardly had a mind for anything else. Luckily, a ferocious winter storm disrupted the owl post, because if she had received Harry's letter any earlier than the last day of term, her head would have been in the clouds for the lot of it.

"YES!" she shrieked when she got the letter at breakfast, startling her classmates out of their studying-induced drowsiness. Ginny kept the exact contents of the letter a secret, grinning stupidly at anyone who asked, until she got a hold of Luna in the hallway.

"Harry's coming to the Burrow for the holidays," she exclaimed in an undertone.

"Delightful," Luna answered, flashing Ginny an airy smile. "If your family would allow it, I would be quite happy to see Harry, Hermione, and Ronald again after Christmas."

"You're welcome anytime," Ginny told her, giving Luna's hand a quick squeeze before running up to her dormitory to read Harry's letter one more time.

The Hogwarts Express had never seemed to take so long to pull into Platform 9¾. When she unloaded from the train, her luggage in tow, Ginny was surprised to see a smattering of Aurors and Order members scattered across the platform, watching the passengers disembark. All of that was forgotten, of course, when she spotted the bespectacled man grinning broadly next to her parents.

Beaming fit to light a Christmas tree, Ginny dropped her luggage and pounded across the platform. Harry caught her with a satisfying 'thud,' and wrapped his arms around her waist as if he would never let go. Ginny buried her face in his neck and relished the moment with every sense, content to cling to him.

"Ginny?" Harry pulled away, worry shining behind his glasses. "What…?" Belatedly, she realized she was tearing up.

"It's nothing, sorry," Ginny said, scrubbing at her eyes, slightly confused herself. "I'm just… there's been a lot. I'm so happy to see you again, Harry." Harry smiled softly and cupped her face in his hands, moving to kiss her, but—

"That's quite enough, Harry," Mrs. Weasley tutted. "I want a hug from my only daughter as well."

Ginny could not help but laugh as she released Harry and turned into her mother's arms. Over her mother's shoulder, she could see Ron and Hermione exchanging a knowing grin. Her father collected his hug next, and by the time they collected her luggage and piled into a taxi cab, Ginny was exhausted, and she spent the remainder of the trip home napping on Harry's shoulder.

Ginny should have known better than to think that she would be allowed to rest the remainder of the evening.

Christmas at the Burrow was always a tumultuous affair – the way the entire family regrouped in their small home for a few days – but this year Mrs. Weasley was in a particular frenzy. Ginny suspected it had something to do with the new arrivals to the family, as well as the arrivals that were not technically related to them, but invited to Christmas dinner all the same. The second Ginny had towed her trunk up to her room, her mother called her down into the kitchen.

"That's a good girl, get out the Christmas china and clean them, won't you dear? Very good, mind you don't break any—_RONALD WEASLEY,_ _don't you think about going upstairs!_"

After sending her shame-faced son off to de-gnome the garden ("Ridiculous, even in winter!" Ginny heard him mutter on his way out), Molly Weasley set her sights on Harry and Hermione. To Ginny's humor, her mother no longer had any qualms with putting them to work like her own children. Hermione was soon dusting the living room, while Harry trundled upstairs to change all the sheets in the empty bedrooms.

"What's all this about?" Ginny hissed to Ron when she was on her third round of polishing and he shuffled through the kitchen, pink from the cold.

"Fleur and Bill have other plans for Christmas Eve," he grumbled. "And they've set a date."

"_Phlegm!_" muttered Ginny, and polished with renewed fervor.

Things continued in this vein for three days, and Mrs. Weasley worked them almost nonstop. Charlie arrived in the midst of it, and Ginny barely got to give him a hug before their mother sent him off to the shed to fix it into another makeshift room. At the end of an exhausting day (Ginny never wanted to see another potato in her life), Ginny was granted a brief reprieve before dinner to relax in the living room.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had their heads together, and Ginny could hear their heated discussion trail off as she entered the room. Harry moved to intercept Ginny with a quick kiss while the other two sprawled out on the couch. Somehow, Ginny knew better than to ask questions.

"I have to admit, I miss Hogwarts," Hermione said, forcing conversation once Harry and Ginny broke apart. Despite not being in much of a mood to talk about school, Ginny collapsed in her father's favorite armchair and sighed.

"I'd rather be in your place any day," Ginny confessed. A barely perceptive glance passed between Hermione and Harry, and just as subtly, he shook his head. "It's just not the same without you," she added quickly.

Silence hung in the air while Ginny tried to get a purchase on the conversation. "Same old Hogwarts?" Ron asked suddenly.

"There's not much that's different," she answered. "Luna's as strange as usual, but she's still good company. I don't see Hagrid all that often – not in Magical Creatures, you know; dropped it for N.E.W.T.s. – but he sends his greetings. I have his present in my trunk, but it can wait until Christmas." She caught Harry's smile at the mention of Hagrid, and she suddenly felt more inclined to talk.

"Luna got Head Girl, did I tell you?"

"Yeah, crazy!" Ron laughed. "Has she been turning the place upside down?"

"I've seen her take away points for standing under mistletoe," she said, and was surprised when Harry snorted. "She's not bad, though. The Head Boy does his best to keep her in line."

"Are you doing well preparing for your N.E.W.T.s?" Hermione asked with obvious concern.

"As well as can be expected," Ginny answered, shrugging. _Considering the circumstances_. She was surprised none of them had asked about Riddle yet.

"_That_, I do not miss," Ron said pointedly. Hermione looked affronted, but Harry piped up before she could reprimand Ron.

"There's something I don't miss about Hogwarts," he said. "_Snape._"

"Ugh, he's the Defense teacher now, right? Can't say I'm upset about missing that," Ron said. "Must be a nightmare."

"Honestly, school wasn't my biggest concern for the first part of the year, so by the time I got around to caring whether or not Snape's class was any good…" She grinned at Harry haphazardly. "Don't get me wrong, he's the same unfair git as always, but he had us creating our own jinxes and counter-jinxes… it was kinda cool."

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, clearly thinking she was crazy. Ginny leaned forward playfully.

"And I think he actually enjoys teaching it, contrary to Potions," she said, trying to prove her point. "His lessons are very practical, a lot like Professor Lupin's, but with more of a focus on dueling. I'm not bad at Defense, myself, but I was shite with a Shield Charm until Snape got a hold of us. And he's very knowledgeable, which is more than I can say for most of our Defense professors." Unfortunately, she did not notice Harry's expression hardening.

"I'll bet he is," Harry muttered darkly, and abruptly the mood of the conversation plummeted. Ginny frowned slightly, and nearby, Hermione tutted from behind the book she had taken up.

"There's no need to be touchy about it, Harry," Ginny said. "I just said he's better at teaching Defense than Potions."

"Excuse me if I don't like to hear you gush about Snape, of all people."

"You _asked_ about him," Ginny said sharply, glaring at him for being so ridiculous. Ron shifted uneasily and then muttered about leaving something in the kitchen.

"I didn't ask for you to write him a bloody _sonnet_."

Ginny was rather taken aback by the acidic tone in Harry's voice; frankly, it scared her. "All I did was say he was a good Defense professor. Is that so bad?"

"Well, we all know where he _got_ all that experience with the Dark Arts, don't we?"

"Oh, please, Harry, he's with the Order."

"And he's a Death Eater. As far as I'm concerned, he's as much foe as friend." Harry's voice was escalating, and Ginny matched him decibel for decibel.

"He risks his _life_—!"

"He doesn't risk anything! He's the safest of all of us, no matter who comes out on top. Why do you keep defending him?"

"Why are you so intent on believing he's for the other side? Just because he doesn't like you?"

"That has nothing to—"

Ginny shot to her feet, cutting off whatever excuse Harry had formulated, and glared down at him. "However much you may want it to, Harry James Potter, the world does _not_ revolve around you!" Spinning on her heel, she stomped out of the room and up the first flight of stairs, slamming the door to her room so hard that the whole house shuddered uneasily.

Ginny sat on her bed, still trying to get her head around the argument. Her heart was still pounding in her ears, and her face was hot and red. It all seemed rather surreal that she had been defending Snape to the point of fighting with Harry over it.

There was a soft knock on the door. "Ginny, can I come in?"

At first, Ginny considered ignoring her, or even throwing something at the door. But Hermione had been one of her best friends ever since the summer at Grimmauld Place, and she could not very well turn her away.

"Come in," she called softly.

Hermione poked her head through the doorframe, and then approached the bed apprehensively. She took a seat next to Ginny and put a hand on her arm, getting straight to the point.

"Look, Ginny, I know Harry's being a git – he always has been when it comes to Snape – but what you said about him… it isn't true at all. We're all wound a little tight at the moment, and… well, what you said probably hurt him more than he let on."

Ginny did not say anything, and looked away instead. Hermione frowned.

"If you don't mind me saying, Ginny, you're acting a bit childish now. The world doesn't revolve around you either."

"_Excuse me?_" Ginny said, drawing away her arm. She had not let Hermione in to be _chastised_.

Hermione faltered, and shifted her gaze to Ginny's sheets. "Well, I mean, you had to know what we were doing… The entire time you were sending us owls, we were searching for Horcruxes and attempting to avoid detection. Voldemort has people in the Ministry now. What we're doing isn't exactly safe, and having Pig show up countless times a week…"

"I was—"

"Perfectly safe all semester," Hermione cut across her. "Dumbledore told us all about the enchantments he had on the room. Tom Riddle wasn't exactly chasing you through the corridors."

"You have no idea what I've been going through," Ginny snapped, shooting to her feet.

"I think I do, since you documented it in about three years worth of letters!" Hermione answered hotly.

"Those letters were for _Harry_," Ginny exploded. "You had no right reading them!"

"Well, _fine_." Hermione's lips pressed together in a fine line. "I was just trying to clear some things up. Excuse me." Stiffly, Hermione rose to her feet and walked out of the room; she only betrayed how upset she was when she slammed the door.

Dinner at the Burrow that night was not a pleasant affair. Ron sat as the buffer between Ginny and Hermione, who had somehow become more upset with each other in the short time since they had talked. Harry sat somewhere on the other side of Hermione, looking now slightly more sick than angry. The adults traded uneasy glances, and made stabs at conversation, but the tension between Ginny and Hermione suffocated most of their attempts.

The flare that accompanied the twins Flooing into the Burrow went off like fireworks in the silence.

"Hullo, Mum!" said Fred, planting a kiss on the crown of their shocked mother's head.

Molly Weasley waved him off with some effort, fussing about as she rose to set their places. "Didn't expect you—wonderful surprise!"

The twins turned their attention to the rest of the table, only to discover the heavy atmosphere.

"Merlin's beard, what's this?" George cried. "Has someone died?"

No one answered, and the twins exchanged a cautious glance. "No one's really died, have they?" Fred asked.

"Someone's been in a bit of a row," Charlie supplied helpfully, motioning to the four sitting across from him. Hermione sniffed, and directed her gaze to a photograph somewhere by George's right ear.

"Before Christmas?" Fred asked, summoning a pair of chairs from a nearby room. "Budge up, Ron, there's a mate—seems impractical to me."

"At least wait until you've secured your presents to go at it." George turned conspiratorially to Harry and whispered, "That's our strategy, anyways—Mum, let me help you with that!"

With a wink in their direction, George whisked the plates out of his mother's hands. Ginny glanced over at Hermione, who was also having trouble not smiling at the twins' antics. The older girl caught her gaze, and immediately forced a frown. Ginny did the same and looked away. Across from her, Ginny's father sighed.

"You children are being ridiculous," Arthur said abruptly. "You haven't seen each other for months, and suddenly you're at each other's throats. We all realize we are in difficult times, but it is times like these that you must cherish your loved ones more than ever." He spared a glance at his wife, who was settling into her seat again, and took her hand. "After all, there is no guarantee that our whole family will be together at once ever again."

A dark pall set over the table, and even the twins started to look serious. Ginny fidgeted guiltily in her seat and sneaked a glance at Hermione again, who did not look too comfortable either. There was a mumble from Mrs. Weasley that sounded suspiciously like, "If Miss Delacour even allows Bill to come home for Christmas."

Arthur shot his wife a short glance, and spoke a bit louder. "I'm not saying this to be pessimistic, but in light of what has been happening lately… Please, if only for the sake of an aging old wizard, make this holiday a good time to look back upon."

There was a short pause until Mrs. Weasley prodded a platter of ham at Harry, urging him to get some more meat on his bones. Ginny caught Hermione's eye and shrugged; Hermione smiled back and turned to berate Ron for his table manners. To Ginny's annoyance, Harry still avoided her glances.

Ginny caught him in the hallway after dinner just before he went upstairs. "Look, Harry, I'm really sorry. I—"

"No, I mean… yeah, me too." Harry toed awkwardly at the floor. "I didn't have to get so mad."

"And I shouldn't have said… what I said." Ginny fiddled with the hem of her sweater and then burst out, "Why haven't you asked me about Riddle yet?"

Harry looked up into her eyes abruptly. "Honestly? I thought you wouldn't want to talk about him since you just got past all that."

"Well… I don't want you to think that I'm overreacting about him," Ginny said. "You're at least concerned, aren't you?"

"Of course I am," Harry answered, reaching for her shoulder. "But you know Dumbledore's got everything under control."

"I know…" Ginny sighed.

"And, you know, however much Hermione gripes about it, we all do enjoy getting letters from you and hearing about Hogwarts."

"Just maybe not more than one a day?" Ginny asked with a small smile.

Harry grimaced, and ventured, "Maybe not one every day."

"I'll try to restrain myself," she said, surprised to find she was not disappointed. Away from Hogwarts, away from Riddle, all her paranoia seemed ridiculous and unfounded. Something about that realization made her feel lighter, and she was abruptly more aware that her boyfriend was standing across from her in the empty hall at the base of the stairwell.

A sly smile curled on her lips, and she took a step closer to Harry. "But all that lost time when I'm restraining myself… perhaps we should make up for it now?"

Catching on, Harry cupped her face in his hands and grinned. "Couldn't agree more."

They had not been more than a few seconds into the kiss when a loud bang broke them apart. Ginny almost panicked, thinking the Burrow was under attack, but she quickly came to her senses when she heard laughter and saw Harry clutching at his face. The twins abruptly slung their arms around Ginny shoulders and leered over at Harry.

"How do you like our new Anti-Creeper Critter?" said George. "Guaranteed to stop any unsavory public displays of affection before you can say 'animalistic teenage hormones'!"

"George!" Ginny shrieked.

"That's what you get for investing, mate," the twin said with a wink toward Harry.

"And I thought investment would make me safe," Harry muttered as he tried to pry the octopus-like invention off his face.

"No such thing as immunity at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes," Fred said. "And hands off our little sister—"

"At least until we can't see the two of you." George winked and the twins cackled as they mounted the stairs.

"Is one moment of solitude so much to ask for in my family?" Ginny sighed as she attempted to help Harry. Once they finally succeeded in freeing Harry from the prank – and properly destroying it – Harry and Ginny found a more private location and Harry demonstrated a very handy detection spell that he had picked up from Hermione out on the road. No one bothered them again.

Even with more people in the house than the Burrow could hold, no drama escalated to the degree of the incident at the beginning of the holiday. The entire Weasley family was in residence, minus Percy, and Remus and Tonks had joined them the day before Christmas. Ginny was delighted to see Tonks again, and although Remus looked as ragged as ever, there was a quiet, nervous happiness about him. Ginny suspected it had something to do with the subtle bump on Tonks' stomach that never seemed to morph away, no matter what form she took. She still caught her mother looking sadly between Tonks and Bill, and could not say she blamed her. She and Hermione were expected to share a room with Fleur, and when the couple left for their own Christmas Eve plans, Ginny found herself relieved.

On Christmas morning, Ginny gave Harry his present, a stationary set, though she made sure he understood it was tongue in cheek. She gave him Hagrid's gift as well, but everyone present was wary of opening it in the house, and so Harry agreed to wait on it. Ginny did not actually see much of Harry on Christmas, which was understandable. She could share him, especially with the likes of Remus and Tonks.

Thus, Ginny was in the kitchen helping her mother when a loud crack startled the air and Dumbledore burst through the side door, Snape in his wake. Mrs. Weasley, though surprised, bustled over to greet them with all her usual hospitality until she spotted Dumbledore's hand. She froze, and peeking around her, Ginny's heart nearly stopped as well.

"Do not be alarmed," Dumbledore said, though he sounded more tired than she had ever heard before. "The worse of it is taken care of, thanks to Professor Snape." Snape scowled, and Ginny was surprised that, along the same lines as Dumbledore, he looked even more sour than usual.

There was a clamor as Harry and Hermione burst into the kitchen, trailed closely by Ron and Remus. "Professor Dumbledore!" Harry cried, rushing over.

"Harry, hello." Subtly, Dumbledore drew his hand further into his sleeve. "I was, ah… overconfident." Harry's eyes flashed with understanding, and Ginny struggled to keep up. Meanwhile, Dumbledore turned his attention to her. "However, this was not the direct reason for my visit. I intended to talk to Ginny and Miss Lovegood about a matter of high importance."

Ginny froze and glanced quickly at Harry.

"I do so hate disturbing the festivities, but as I'm sure you can assume, it may be better to address this while a portion of the Order is present. Do you think you could fetch Miss Lovegood?" Ginny nodded and walked stiffly toward the door, but Harry cut her off.

"I'll get her," he said, turning on the spot and Disapparating. He returned a moment later with Luna, who looked barely phased at being snatched out of her Christmas festivities. She was wearing a multitude of flashing Christmas lights that made it difficult to look straight at her.

"Has something gone wrong, Professor?" she asked, her eyes wide, unblinking, and almost disturbing.

"A moment of privacy, Severus," Dumbledore said quietly. Snape's eyes flashed with displeasure, but he allowed Mrs. Weasley to sweep him genially from the room after she rose from her stupor.

Ginny and Luna watched Dumbledore expectantly as he heaved a sigh and lowered himself into a chair in the corner. Harry and the others drifted closer so that he could speak in a hushed voice.

"Ginny, Luna… I'm afraid I have an unfavorable task to ask of you," he began. "And realize, I ask you this as members of the Order."

Instant pride swelled up in Ginny's chest, and she was relieved her mother was not in the room; she would have surely objected at this point. Her joy was not meant to last long.

"Activity on the enemy's part has heightened as of late and it more important than ever that Harry's task be accomplished. As such, I will not be at Hogwarts quite as often as I would like during the next semester, and although I can entrust most of the duties at the school to Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape, there is one thing with which I can not entrust them." He paused, and Ginny tried to ignore the sick feeling in her chest; her mind worked double-time trying to will away what she thought he would say next. "Or more specifically, one _person_."

Ginny realized she had been holding her breath only when she gasped, "But Professor…" and a pounding headache exploded in her ears. At her side, Luna said nothing at all, but could have easily passed for the Grey Lady. "Why not McGonagall or Snape? They're both Order members."

"Minerva knows too much of the breadth of the Order, and although I trust her implicitly, our young ward is already an accomplished Legimens. As for Severus, when dealing with Voldemort, it is best for him to know as little as possible in some matters. Severus knows nothing of who we are keeping in the Room of Requirement.

"If I did not have to ask this of you, I would not. But we have no other options." Dumbledore reached out as if to clap Ginny's shoulder, but faltered when he realized that he held out his blackened hand. The pause was short, but the gravity of the situation suddenly fell on Ginny; this was not only about her. "Will you do it?" he asked.

"Dumbledore—" Harry said in a quiet, hard voice, but Ginny already knew what she had to answer.

"Yes."

Ginny looked over in surprise at Luna, who had spoken first. Her face was still pale, but her blue eyes shone with the resolve that only Luna could have.

"Are you sure?" Ginny asked, catching her friend's eye.

"Aren't you?" Luna replied. Ginny nodded and Luna took her by the hand. "Then we'll take him on together this time." Ginny tried to smile, but it did not seem right.


	9. The Water's Cold

The Difficulties of Avoidance

by dead2self

**A/N:** Well, this took rather less time than I expected it to. I guess that's what happens when a new movie comes out and I'm barreling through all seven books - inspirations is bound to strike! The story has taken an interesting turn now and I have a clearer picture of the plot, so hopefully I'll be able to write even more soon! As for now, enjoy this chapter, enjoy the new movie coming out tonight (as I am studying abroad and a host of circumstances have reared up against me, I will have to wait until Saturday to see it in Prague), and leave reviews!

* * *

Though it hardly seemed possible, the word "Sugar Quill" had taken on an imposing tone for Ginny. It was, of course, the current password to the door to the Room of Requirements, a door that she was currently facing. Or rather, should have been facing. Beside her, Luna was biting her lip.

"He's late," she said to fill the silence that only midnight at Hogwarts could bring. "And the door isn't here."

"Maybe he couldn't come tonight," Luna offered. Ginny did not answer her, but she sorely doubted it.

The rest of the holidays had been a blur for Ginny. She spent her days with Luna pouring over tomes of defensive spells. She barely saw Harry but for the handful of times he tried to impart what little knowledge of Occulmency he had retained, an exercise that Ginny secretly found futile. She could not imagine being able to keep Riddle out of her head if he had an opportunity to read her memories. Her only real defense as far as she could see was keeping him from getting close enough to try.

A few days before the beginning of the term, Dumbledore had once again shown up unannounced at the Burrow, this time to inform Luna and Ginny of changes he had made to the security spells on the Room of Requirements. The room still required a password for entry, but to open the door from the inside required both Ginny and Luna to produce a Patronus, one from the outside and one from within. The remainder of the holidays gave them a bit more time to practice the charm until they could each hold their Patronus for extended time over long distances, and Luna's could even relay a few words.

Producing a Patronus now would likely do no good at all, although Ginny felt as if a Dementor was breathing down her back. To distract herself, she ran through their checklist one last time, like her mother rattling off some demented list of chores. "Whenever we enter the room, we will immediately cast a full-body bind and a silencing spell." Luna nodded mutely. "Then we will leave the food, quickly check him for wounds or anything suspicious. Absolutely no eye contact. When we're ready to leave the one inside will cast the Patronus through the door and the one on the outside will answer. We will leave without removing the spells, allowing them to fade naturally."

"And we will do this twice a day," Luna added, fiddling idly with one radish earring. "Alternating who goes inside."

Silence clouded over them again, and it came as a relief when Ginny caught a flash of silver round the corner. Even with his blackened hand, the Headmaster radiated a steady cheerfulness. "Good evening, Ginny, Miss Lovegood. I trust you've prepared yourselves?"

"As best we can, sir," Luna piped.

"Wonderful. Then the three of us will enter together to have a few words with Mr. Riddle – I have explained the new arrangement, but I think it best that we are all on the same page, so to speak – before testing the new security. I should mention that Tom was quite interested in why I would be unavailable to care for him in the next months, but under the circumstances it would be ideal if he were not informed. I trust you will take all the precautions at your disposal?"

When both girls had nodded their emphatic agreement, he turned toward the blank wall. "Ah yes, I thought it more appropriate to not leave an impassable door hanging about." There was a twinkle in his eye. "Not that such a door would be out of place in our dear Hogwarts, but it is my experience that some students might rather enjoy the challenge." Ginny snorted despite herself; she had no difficulty coming up with two such people off the top of her head.

Facing the quite empty wall, Dumbledore said, "Sugar Quill," and then tugged on an invisible handle and stepped through first. Ginny imagined they would be doing quite a lot of groping for the door handle when they did it on their own. Luna gave Ginny's hand a squeeze and followed him. Ginny was the last through the door and it slammed shut behind her as she passed through the familiar barriers and her vision cleared.

Tom Riddle was not groveling on the floor this time. He sat in the chair, fingers peaked in his lap, slouching slightly with his legs crossed jauntily. He watched them steadily as Ginny joined Luna and the headmaster, and she found herself strangely off-balance. She had never seen Riddle looking quite so _casual_ before.

"Professor," he said, voice decadent with irony.

"Good evening Tom. I had hoped you would still be awake." Riddle blinked languidly. When it was clear he had no intention of responding, Dumbledore gestured to Ginny and Luna. "You remember Miss Weasley and Miss Lovegood, of course. And no doubt you remember our conversation."

Riddle sighed, eyes roaming over them. "Yes, and now the only question remaining is why you are still prattling on at all. I'm sure you are leaving me in _quite_ capable hands." A rather nasty smile played on his lips as he surveyed Luna and Ginny. In the meantime, Dumbledore summoned three armchairs and a short table, and quite without warning, Riddle found himself sinking in to a deep, lumpy easy chair that looked like it was swallowing him.

"Tea, Tom?" Riddle only glared at him as he struggled to sit up. "Miss Lovegood? Miss Weasley?" Ginny and Luna both nodded and Luna said, "With some honey, if you don't mind," which made Ginny realize that she wanted a bit of milk and sugar herself. Dumbledore also produced some scones and jam, and the girls helped themselves. Riddle sat back in his chair with barely veiled distain for the food until Ginny heard an unmistakable growl come from his stomach.

"Just eat the food, you prat," she sneered, shooting a scone into his mouth and delighting in the fact that he almost choked. She took a delicate sip of her tea. "I refuse to force feed you every time I come in here."

"How altruistic of you." He had, however, been forced to eat the scone rather than let it fall into his lap, and chewing kept his glares from being too directed. It probably also helped that the jam was rather delicious.

Dumbledore was stirring his tea absently with his wand when he said, "Tom, as they will be taking care of you over the next few months, I believe you owe these two ladies an apology."

Riddle licked a bit of jam off his fingers. "The only good thing about this whole situation is that I don't have to pretend to be apologetic anymore."

"Well, _I'm_ sorry," Luna said abruptly. "For your hand." Ginny could not help gaping at her.

Riddle, on the other hand, looked vaguely annoyed. "You don't mean a word of that."

"I _do_ mean it."

"My, then they certainly do let _anyone_ into Ravenclaw these days. You do your house little credit with your foolishness—"

"Oh, shut up!" Ginny snapped, suddenly quivering with anger.

Dumbledore held up a hand to Ginny, and the voice he used with Riddle was quiet but terrifying. "That is enough Tom." Riddle, however, was fixated on Dumbledore's blackened hand, eyes narrowed. Ginny's heart leapt into her throat, but Riddle did not say anything, instead reaching for a second scone. They drank their tea in relative silence, punctuated only by passing remarks from Dumbledore and Luna's observance that the room had fallen into quite disarray since she had last been there. "It's a veritable breeding ground for Dust Mice," she confided to Ginny.

Dumbledore was still sipping his tea, but silence had fallen over the other three and Ginny felt her eyes growing heavy. Abruptly, Tom struggled out of the easy chair and took three easy strides over to the bed, where he lay with his back to them. Dumbledore coughed, bidding the girls to rise, and then vanished the furniture, leaving behind only Tom's armchair and the table.

"Only one thing remains before we can all follow Mr. Riddle's example," he said, speaking softly. He flicked his wand at the door. "Miss Lovegood, if you would please step outside?"

Luna disappeared into the corridor, and then Dumbledore nodded to Ginny, who took one look at Tom's back, and fairly shouted, "_Expecto Patronum!_" The horse burst out of her wand in a blaze of silvery light and galloped through the door. Not a moment later, Luna's hare hopped lazily through the wall. "Goodnight," it said in Luna's sweet, wispy voice. Ginny wasted no time in leaving the room.

"Alas," sighed Professor Dumbledore when the door closed behind them. "I always forget that a good tea time leaves my wand quite sticky."

* * *

Dreary eyed and wishing dearly to be curled up in bed, Ginny stood with Luna in the seventh floor corridor the next morning. They had decided to do this early in the morning before many students were up, but Ginny already had serious doubts that this routine would stick. Nonetheless, this morning she was carrying a plate of breakfast procured from the kitchen and Luna was slopping orange juice on the floor as she held a pitcher loosely at her side.

"How am I supposed to hold all this and freeze him all at the same time?" Ginny said irately. It had been decided that she would go first.

"You could just levitate it beside you," Luna said, an odd note of annoyance in her voice. But then, Ginny had never seen her awake this early.

Ginny flicked her want and the pitcher of orange juice jumped out of Luna's hand, joined shortly by the plate of food. Reassured now that she had two hands free, she said, "Sugar Quill." It did indeed take a bit of groping, but then she opened the door and strode inside.

Riddle was nearly on top of her. "_Stupefy!_" she shrieked, toppling him with the spell. There was a crash and when everything spun into focus again, she realized the orange juice had smashed to the ground. The plate was still floating steadily. Quivering, she directed the plate over to the table and then advanced on the prone Riddle with wand raised. He was groaning.

"Merlin, Weasley, you—"

"_Silencio! Petrificus Totalus_." Riddle went silent and stiff as a board, and Ginny bent quickly and checked him over for any injuries. Seeing nothing but what might become a nasty sort of welt on his stomach and a bump on the back of his head, Ginny returned to the remains of the orange juice. She repaired the pitcher with a flick of her wand and then siphoned what juice she could off of the floor. It had turned a murky, sickly brown sort of color, but a little dirt never hurt anyone, so she set it down next to the rest of the food. Duties accomplished, she sent her Patronus through the wall, and at the first sight of a cotton tail, slipped out of the room.

"Are you okay?" Luna asked, pearly white in the still-dark corridor.

"He just startled me is all. I dropped the orange juice, but I got most of it back."

"That's good." Luna pocketed her wand and then looked up at Ginny with a strange look of amusement. "_Stupefy?_"

Ginny could not help a grin. "It was pretty satisfying. Maybe we should do that every time instead of _Petrificus Totalus_. I didn't quite get it strong enough this time, but it _could_ save on casting the Silencing Charm. Much more efficient."

Luna giggled, but shook her head. "I think prolonged exposure to Stunning spells can cause lasting damage."

"If _only_ the full-body bind was the same way!" She glanced at her watch, pleased that the Great Hall would be prepared for breakfast soon. "Let's go eat."

Luna's turn later in the evening went off without a hitch, and just like that, Tom Riddle became a part of their daily routine. Go to class, practice Quidditch, feed Tom Riddle, do homework – it became oddly mundane. True to Ginny's prediction, about a week into their care for Tom Riddle they found themselves visiting him during their morning break instead of waking up before breakfast, and then afterhours when Luna was quite within her bounds to escort another student around the castle. Weeks turned into a month, during which Ravenclaw smeared the pitch with Slytherin, putting Gryffindor back in the running for the Quidditch Cup. Quidditch, then, tended to dominate Ginny's thoughts far more than their charge in the Room of Requirements. In fact, as they often silenced him before he could get a word in edgewise, it hardly seemed like they were caring for Tom Riddle at all. The only thing that bothered Ginny now was his pointed stares at her carefully averted face.

The more pressing issue was Harper's dogged perseverance to discover what they were doing. He was frequently annoyed to find Luna and Ginny wandering around the castle at night, and even brought the matter to Professor Dumbledore, who pretended that there was nothing unusual at all about their nighttime escapades. Ginny took to carrying the Marauders Map at all times so they could weave through passageways to avoid him. After a week of being unable to find them, Harper had accused Luna of putting "some otherworldly jinx" on him, and after that they were careful to at least let him sight them on occasion.

They had just left Harper puzzling over the stone wall they had recently disappeared through – the same passageway, Ginny recalled, where they had found Riddle in the first place – and were hurrying up to the seventh floor. But when they rounded the corner, they were shocked to find the corridor was not empty. A tall figure, wearing a high-necked robe that looked too old for his young face, was surveying the wall opposite Barnabas the Barmy's tapestry with a something akin to desperation.

"_Malfoy?_" Ginny said. He jumped nearly a foot into the air and wheeled on them.

"What are you doing out after hours?" he snapped.

Ginny pointed to the Head Girl badge currently pinned to Luna's headscarf. "What are _you_ doing here, Malfoy? Back for remedial studies? I knew your graduating was just for laughs."

With a swift sneer at the wall, Malfoy walked purposely towards them. "Although it is no business of yours, I was simply applying for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position."

"_You?_" Malfoy stared back, oddly white, and Ginny realized he had not been joking. "Expecting Snape to kick the bucket by the end of the year? I thought you liked him."

Ignoring this, Malfoy looked pointedly at the food they were carrying. "Great Hall not good enough for you anymore, Weasley? Have you taken to eating in cupboards to feel more at home?"

Ginny bristled, but Luna stepped forward first, adopting her Head Girl voice. "Mr. Malfoy, I'm glad you could visit the school, but if you stay too long in empty corridors, you might get attacked by the Splatheries that live in less-visited portraits. If you've forgotten the castle, I could escort you down to the Headmaster's office or the front doors."

"Come off it, Lovegood." With a deep scowl, Malfoy swept past them and around the corner. Both girls waited, hardly daring to breathe, until they could be sure that he would not hear them speak the password. Luna went in to leave the food with Riddle, leaving Ginny in the hall to puzzle over what had just happened.


	10. Treacherous Waters

Difficulties of Avoidance

by dead2self

**A/N:** Whew! Long chapter! I considered splitting it in two because (spoiler alert) a LOT goes on in this chapter, but the place I wanted to split it made the second half too short. So you all get a longer, action-packed chapter. I thoroughly enjoyed writing this chapter because it was one of those that just comes to you easily. I hope you'll have as much fun reading it as I did writing it. Please review! They make me sooo happy. And if you enjoy critiquing, please critique - specifically on whether or not this would work better as two chapters and where you would split it. I feel like I'm always editing this story (which means ff net is actually kinda out of date with the document on my computer now, but meh, what can you do?).

All that to say - enjoy the chapter!

* * *

In the morning, Ginny was still mulling over Malfoy. The encounter had been strange, to say the least. She had not seen Malfoy since Harry's seventh year, the year Harry had been near paranoia over Malfoy's supposed illicit activities. It had all come to naught, of course, and Hermione had given a stellar I-told-you-so speech at the Three Broomsticks after graduation. Ginny had heard rumors that he was a Death Eater now, which came as no surprise at all.

But what business would he have in Hogwarts? Although Dumbledore told Luna that Malfoy had indeed approached him about the job, Ginny did not believe for a second the position was the reason for his visit. Ginny felt in the pit of her stomach that Malfoy knew whom they were hiding in the Room of Requirements, although Dumbledore did not seem worried.

Her distraction cost Gryffindor points in Defense Against the Dark Arts, where Snape was in fine form that day. Ginny had never seen Snape quite so sour before, except when he was around Harry. Although she was rather competent with nonverbal spells by this time, he took points again for her lips twitching (an action that Ginny termed _breathing_). It was in ill spirits that she stormed towards her next class, but her mood alleviated the moment she stepped into the entrance hall. Standing there, surrounded by an assortment of excited first-years and old friends from Gryffindor, were Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Harry! Ron, Hermione!" She pushed through the assembled crowd to give all three of them hugs and a peck for Harry. "Between you three and Malfoy, you might as well hold a class reunion this week!"

Harry's easy grin was wiped away, replaced with sudden suspicion. "Malfoy was here?"

"Yeah, applying for the Defense position of all things."

The trio exchanged incredulous looks, until Ginny asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Just some business with Dumbledore," Harry answered, then in a lower voice, whispered, "Dumbledore expects he found something. We're _finally_ going out tonight to destroy a You-Know-What."

"And here I've got _History of Magic_," Ginny pouted. Then, on a whim, she added, "You three haven't seen Snape yet, have you?"

Harry and Ron immediately snarled, but it was Hermione who answered. "_Professor_ Snape, Ginny. And yes, he brought us up to the castle earlier this morning."

Ginny could not help but chuckle at the dissonant effect Harry had on Snape. "Amazing. Even after leaving school, you can still make Gryffindor lose points just by showing up." She glanced down at her watch, and leaving the trio puzzled, ran off yelling a threatening, "You better find me later!"

History of Magic had never been more dull and not for the first time she regretted taking History of Magic NEWTs just because she had a good memory for numbers and a knack for guessing goblin names. Staring blanking out the window, she imagined Binn's drone in a few hundred years describing how the great Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, had destroyed a part of Voldemort on this very day – and somehow making it sound boring. And then just as Professor Binn's constant drone faded away with the bell ending the lecture, Ginny left the room only to be faced with Harper.

"Ginevra Weasley," he said, standing straight in her path, "I have been looking for you all morning." She noticed he was carrying his file of carefully charmed notes and papers, color-coded.

"Ginevra? Who are you, my mother? Not _now_ Harper."

Ignoring her, Harper opened the file and shuffled through until he found her name. "I have it on good authority that you have lost further points for your house this morning. This puts you officially on the 'frequent offender' list." He clumsily waved his wand over her file, which already contained a rather unflattering picture of Ginny that glared up at him, and the sheet turned a violent crimson color.

Ginny eyed him warily, although quite unable to keep her humor from her voice. "Frequent offender, Harper, really?"

Harper, detecting insolence, immediately puffed out his chest. "Yes, it is a new system I am employing as Head Boy that enacts stricter restrictions and surveillance on those students who continually flout the rules. Now if you're just sign right here to show you have been informed of the new procedures—"

"I'm gonna stop you there, Harper. I'm not signing that. _Fred and George_ never had to sign some sort of surveillance contract, and I'll eat my wand before I sign any contract probably hexed up and down by you."

Harper sputtered in mute rage for a moment, nearly purple in the face before he exploded, "I'm Head Boy!"

"I try to forget it daily. Anything else?" Her haste to see Harry and the others had quickly moved this conversation from amusing to annoying.

"You need to sign this to show you've been informed of the new procedure!"

"I actually wasn't informed of any new procedure, but if something comes up, I'll be sure to talk to the Head Girl about it. Can you move now? I'm in a hurry to meet someone."

"The Headmaster will hear about this!"

"What, that the Head Boy is harassing her? Don't worry; we can tell him ourselves if you want." Ginny glanced over Harper's shoulder on tiptoes and grinned brightly at her approaching boyfriend. Harper merely whipped around, had the good grace to look shocked for a moment, and then sneered.

"What are you doing here Potter?"

"Some small matters to discuss with Dumbledore," Harry answered, taking in Harper's badge with some distaste of his own. "Nothing you students need to worry about. Mind if I borrow Ginny?" And without waiting for a reply, he hooked Ginny's arm in his own and towed her away from the smoldering Head Boy.

"_Thank you!_" Ginny laughed, now quite unable to control herself. She explained the situation between giggles.

"Good to see the Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry is alive and strong," Harry chuckled. "I wonder what possessed Dumbledore to make him Head Boy?"

"You've heard the Sorting Hat; it's always going on about House unity. It's probably something like that – though why he would think _Harper_ would bring us together is beyond me." The walked through a crowd of awestruck second years, but once out of range, Ginny whispered, "So are you nervous?"

Harry's mouth set in a firm line that Ginny could not decipher. "Well, Dumbledore will be there." He looked to be thinking hard, and when he clutched her arm tighter, Ginny knew he had decided something. "Promise not to laugh, but it isn't me I'm worried about; it's Dumbledore." Ginny cocked a brow quizzically, but did her best not to laugh. "That hand is worse than he's letting on, I know it, and for all we know the protections on this next one will be worse. I don't want him sacrificing himself for me if I can help it."

Ginny drew this in with a deep breath, clutching his arm closer. Then she looked up at a troll in a tutu looking curiously down at her from a wall tapestry and froze. "Harry," she said dangerously.

"Ginny, I need you to do me a favor," he said as Ron and Hermione strolled around the corner with Luna.

Ginny jerked her arm away from Harry. "Does Dumbledore know about this?"

"No, they are going behind his back," Luna answered as she drew up beside Ginny, and both Ron and Hermione went red. Ginny guessed they had not told this to Luna, and raised her brow at Harry. He raised his hands in defense.

"I need to talk to him Ginny. I'll be careful; just trust me. I need you to help me."

"Talk to him about _what_ Harry? This is seventeen year old Voldemort. The diary is already gone and even if he somehow knew how his future self hid other Horcruxes, I highly doubt he would tell you."

"It's nothing about that," Harry answered. "I just need to talk with him."

"Go on Ginny; we don't have a lot of time here," Ron said impatiently and Ginny wheeled on him.

"Oh _shut up_, Ron! Shouldn't you be getting ready for tonight anyhow?"

"No," Harry said quickly while Ron, and surprisingly Hermione, glowered. Luna looked dreamily between the pair of them and abruptly asked, "You're not going with him?

The looks Ron and Hermione shot at Harry showed instantly that Luna had touched on something of a raw nerve. Harry picked the answer up before either of them could chime in.

"Voldemort has been quiet for the past year. The only thing we _know_ that he's done is bring his younger self into the present."

"But he must have messed up or something, because he hasn't got him, has he?" added Ron. "He ended up in Hogwarts."

"Right and he had to have a reason for bringing himself into the future because he spent nearly a year to complete the spell – we think – and so he must be pretty desperate to get Riddle back—"

"What Harry is _trying_ to say," Hermione interjected, "is that he thinks there's a connection between Malfoy coming to Hogwarts and Voldemort getting his hands on Tom Riddle. And with Dumbledore away from the castle tonight, he thinks this is when Voldemort will make his move." In a flash, Hermione looked quite indignant. "Although I still find it quite impossible. You can't Apparate into Hogwarts and I hardly think that the staff would allow an army of Death Eaters to fly over the walls on broomsticks just because Professor Dumbledore is out for the night."

"Actually, I agree with Harry," Ginny said suddenly. "Because I was thinking the same thing. We found Malfoy right outside the Room of Requirements."

"See!" Harry crowed, turning on Ron and Hermione, but Ginny narrowed her eyes at him.

"I still don't see why you need to talk to Riddle."

"I can't tell you, Ginny. You just have to trust me." He met her eyes with a firm resolve and she got the sick feeling she would not win this argument.

Clenching her teeth and hopeful for another voice of reason, she turned on Hermione. "You can't agree with this."

Ginny saw clear anxiety in her friend's eyes, but she replied, "It's important Ginny. We need all the help we can get…"

Ginny stared between all three of them, feeling oddly betrayed, and floundered for words until Luna said, "If you don't go in with him, Ginny, I will."

With the feeling as if she had been caught in the stomach with a Bludger, Ginny grunted out, "Fine! Fine, I'll let you in. But I don't like this at all."

Harry touched her arm and she jerked away stubbornly. "I'll be careful, I promise."

"He's good enough at Legilimency that he can read your mind without a wand – just with eye contact," Ginny said with a short stab of guilt.

"I know, but I have a wand and I know a little Occulmency." Then Harry caught her offguard with a sudden teasing smile. "Besides, you're not planning on letting him out anytime soon, are you?"

"That's not funny," Ginny snapped, fighting off a smile. "Shouldn't we just get this over with?" Steeling herself, Ginny reached for the invisible door handle and strode through the enchantments, wand out.

Tom Riddle was pacing the length of the room with his eyes on the floor, but his head shot up when Ginny entered the room, a shadow of surprise crossing his face as he realized Ginny had come for a second time that day. But that was nothing compared to the surprise he showed when Harry stepped into the room. Then in a heartbeat his face was a mask.

"If it isn't Harry Potter the basilisk slayer," Tom intoned with an ironic bow of his head. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Harry did not look up at Riddle; rather, he was staring intently at some small thing he held in his palm. Ginny jumped when a terrible choking, hissing noise carried across the room, and belatedly she realized it was coming from Harry. Riddle blinked, and then replied in the same terrible voice. With sudden bile rising in her throat, Ginny realized Harry intended to hold the entire conversation in Parseltongue. A furious swell of anger buzzed at the back of her head before she pushed it back. With a huff she crossed her arms over her chest and felt heat rising to her face with each passing minute. Harry never once looked up from his palm, only wiggling it periodically, but Riddle's eyes grew darker as the conversation drew on. At one point, he let out a strangled hiss so vehement that the hairs on Ginny's arms stood on end.

Abruptly, Harry broke off and said, "Alright, Ginny, I've said my piece." Across the room Riddle's face was impenetrable, but if Ginny had to put one word to it, she would say he looked thoughtful.

Ginny tried to summon up a happy memory through her haze of frustration and worry, and her Patronus was understandably dim when it trotted through the wall. Luna's rabbit appeared a moment later and Ginny led Harry through the door, glancing back to see Riddle settling into the armchair with his fingers steepled.

"Thank you Ginny," Harry said, cautiously kissing the top of her head.

"Don't push your luck, Potter; I'm mad at you."

"Alright, Weasley," he chuckled.

"I don't suppose you'll ever tell me what this was about?"

"Maybe someday. Are you too angry to eat dinner with us? You too, Luna," he added.

"Oh yes, I have missed you all terribly," Luna answered. "And Harper is quite busy today chasing down frequent offenders, so I think he might forget our meeting about proper badge care."

Ron caught site of Luna's Head Girl badge, back in its proper position upside down on her chest, and snorted loudly. Hermione looked a touch disapproving, but made no noise.

"You know, Luna," Ron said, clapping Luna heartily on the back, "I've missed you too."

"Thank you Ronald!" Luna said. "Now let's not linger; Splatheries you know…"

Luna drifted off in the direction of the Great Hall and they followed, Ron mouthing, "_Splatheries!_" to Harry over Luna's head.

With Harry and the others in attendance, no one at the Gryffindor table seemed to notice or care that Luna was sitting with them too. Even a few other Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs trickled over (including a Hufflepuff first year who just wanted to touch Harry's scar) and sat down. Colin and Dennis Creevey had cornered Harry upon entry and sat on either side of him, barraging him with questions about what life was like out of school – questions Harry dodged with practiced ease. The only people in the room who seemed to disapprove of their unconventional dinner was Snape, who was looking down from the Head Table if he felt sick just to see it, and the quickly approaching Head Boy.

"Lovegood!" he snapped, drawing even with the dinner party. "We had a meeting."

"I know," Luna answered, still eating steadily.

Leaning closer, Harper tried to lower his voice to a whisper, a task not quite accomplished in his anger. "If you cannot take this seriously, you should turn in your badge. Otherwise, I would appreciate a unified front on the matter of discipline. Even your own friend wouldn't sign the contract."

"So it was a contract then," Ginny said blithely, "not a notice that I'd been informed?"

Harper sent Ginny a withering glare and returned his attention to Luna. "I don't know what goes on in that head of yours, but if you could just try to understand that we have a responsibility to the school—for the love of Merlin, turn your badge right side up!"

Not blinking, Luna rotated the badge, but the indignity of it seemed to have stalled Harper's tirade. "Calm down Harper; you're going to give yourself a stroke," Ron said around a mouthful of chicken.

"Oh, Harper is only frustrated with me because he is mad at Ginny," Luna supplied helpfully. By now the rest of the table realized there was another person in their midst, and Hermione swiveled away from her discussion with a Ravenclaw prefect in surprise.

"Oh Harper! You're the one they made Head Boy? Congratulations!"

Harper jerked visibly and whipped around toward Hermione so fast it was a wonder he did not get whiplash. The change was immediate. He flushed red to the tips of his ears as he mumbled out something sounding similar to "Head Boy, me, yes, thank you" and puffed out his chest so the badge was more clearly visible.

Harry and Ginny shared a look of incredulous glee, but Ron had turned abruptly sour. "Right, right, you're Head Boy. Get on with it. Can't you see we're eating here?"

Harper gave Ron a look of the purest distain, but nonetheless muttered his goodbyes to Hermione and moved off to the Slytherin table. Ginny was no longer able to hold back a gale of laughter. Ron, meanwhile, was vindictively pantomiming Hermione in a high-pitched voice.

"_Oh Harper. Head Boy! Congratulations!_ Blimey Hermione, do you want to go sit at Slytherin with him?"

Rather pink herself, Hermione stabbed a bit too hard at a carrot on her plate and missed it entirely. "Please Ron, he was a prefect last year; I had meetings with him all the time. I was just being polite."

As Ginny sat back and surveyed their table, she felt with a stab of pain that this – not Harry begging her to see Tom Riddle and worrying about Dumbledore – was what was supposed to be normal. She would have given any number of things to have this scene every day, even if it meant listening to Ron snipe immaturely at Hermione. But that did not stop Dumbledore descending from the Head Table towards them. He stopped behind Harry.

"Pardon my interruption, but I must have a word with the Head Girl," he said with a tip of his wizarding hat. Ginny could have sworn she saw a piece of paper pass into Harry's hands when everyone looked to Luna, but Dumbledore said no more and swept off with Luna in his wake. Conversations resumed, but Ginny felt as if some happy illusion had fallen away. Everything had changed.

Once they had escaped from the general chaos of the Great Hall, extricated themselves from excited Gryffindors in the Common Room, and waited for Ron to finish gaping around the room as if he had never seen it before, Harry showed them Dumbledore's short note. It said nothing more than instructions to meet at 9 o'clock in the entrance hall with his Invisibility Cloak, but Harry added that Order members would also be in the castle that night in Dumbledore's absence.

There were some futile attempts at conversation, mostly stabs at what Harry might be doing with Dumbledore that night or which corridors they should cover more carefully in their patrol around the school, but the mood from dinner had dissipated. When a first year approached them to say that the Head Girl was waiting outside for Ginny, all of them were thankful for the distraction of visiting the kitchens. Luna and Ginny gathered Riddle's dinner while Harry, Ron, and Hermione caught up with an elf wearing three layers of clothing and a rather waiflike elf in an off-color smock. Ginny glanced at her watch at the door and realized with a jolt that this was it.

Without thinking, she threw the plate down on the closest table (one of the elves stopped it from crashing to the floor with a terrified squeak) and rushed at Harry. She hit him with enough force to knock the air out of him, but Harry tugged her closer.

"It'll be fine. When we get back tonight, I'll tell you all about it. You still have the Marauder's Map?"

Ginny pulled it from inside her robes, checking it quickly for Harper.

"Everything's clear on the seventh floor," she answered, noting a few familiar names loitering around the castle, including her brother Bill.

Harry's blazing look passed between Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and Luna. "Promise me you'll check it all night. And be safe. I know Malfoy is up to something." With a guilty, furtive look at Hermione, he added, "And Snape."

"_He is a member of the Order, Harry_," Hermione hissed, and Ginny got the sense that this was an argument they had often.

"We will," Ginny replied quickly, if only to steer them away from a crisis. "You have the Invisibility Cloak?" Harry patted his robes and nodded. Ginny stalled, then, "Well, good luck. I know you'll be brilliant." She picked up the plates again and nodded firmly at him.

"Be safe," he repeated. "See you later tonight."

"Later, Harry," Luna called, and then the portrait closed over the kitchen entrance. As they walked their well-trodden route between the kitchens and the Room of Requirements, Ginny could not shake a niggling seed of dread. It was a few minutes until upperclassman curfew, and students scattered in their wake as Luna called for people to return to their dormitories. They had to stop for Luna to confiscate an Anti-Gravity Hat that she placed promptly on her head (in a manner of speaking), but otherwise the walk was uneventful. The castle was warm despite the snow that drifted up against the windows. It was hard to imagine how she could feel so bad on a night like this.

On the seventh floor, Luna took the food from Ginny and slid into the Room of Requirements. Ginny glanced at her watch, imagining that Harry and Professor Dumbledore were well away from the grounds by this point. She could only imagine where they might be going and stubbornly Ginny pushed away the temptation to try. She would only make this harder for herself.

Luna's rabbit came out a bit earlier than normal, as Luna had recently taken to straightening the sparse furnishings in the room every evening. Ginny sent her Patronus through the door, mind still wandering, and was taken completely off-balance when Riddle darted from the doorway first.

"Stop!" Luna screamed lunging after him, the Anti-Gravity Hat flying wildly from her head, but even Ginny did not have the time to draw her wand before he rounded the corner.

"He was sleeping!" Luna cried miserably, slamming the door shut.

"Dumbledore isn't here tonight!" Ginny yelped, tearing after him. "Come on!" She struggled with the Maurader's Map as she ran, spotting Tom's small ink dot moving fast on the sixth floor. "This way!" she yelled, darting through a seemingly solid door that opened into a passageway that would head Riddle off. Bursting out from the middle of a portrait of a wizard tea party ("_Excuse_ you!"), she spun and screamed, "_STUPEFY!_" at Tom Riddle as he rounded the corner. The burst of red light whizzed past his head as he made to change direction, but Luna was fast on Ginny's heels.

"_Stupefy!_" she cried, and her spell caught Riddle from the other side, solidly in the shoulder. He slumped to the ground, unconscious, and Luna's eyes were popping out of her head, looking surprised that it had worked at all. Both girls, shaking wildly, were caught completely off-guard by the voice that sounded behind them.

"What is the meaning of this?"

And there was Harper, clearly shocked at their sudden appearance, but his face shining red with triumph, his finger pointed accusingly at Luna. "The Head Girl Stunning a student! Even Dumbledore can't ignore your ineptitude this—"

"_Stupefy!_" Ginny shouted, and Harper fell beside Riddle.

Both girls stood as if Petrified above their two victims. "F-Five points from Griffindor!" Luna said abruptly.

Stirred into action, Ginny cried "What?" as she knelt down to check both boys.

"I _am_ Head Girl." Luna knelt next to her, her lips screwed tightly in a line. "It would look quite strange if he woke up and I had just let you off for hexing the Head Boy."

"If he wakes up, I swear I'll do it again," Ginny said savagely, turning instead to roll over Riddle's prone body. His lip had split when he had fallen, so she used a corner of his shirt to wipe off the blood. "You better take care of Harper; he'll at least have a harder time taking points from you. I'll put Riddle back in the Room. Meet as soon as possible near Gryffindor Tower or with Ron and Hermione if you run into them first." She shoved the Marauder's Map at Luna, adding, "In case you need to run away from Harper."

With one more check to make sure he was knocked out, Ginny levitated Riddle and pulled him back through the portrait of the sputtering, red-faced tea party. She tore through the seventh floor, her levitating charm weakening in her haste until Riddle was bouncing along the floor like a skipping stone. She turned the corner into the now familiar corridor and shrieked, flinging out her wand to send Riddle flying back around the corner and out of sight. For the second time this week, the corridor was not empty.

"Merlin, Malfoy!" she yelled, clutching at her chest. "What are you applying for now, Divination?"

For the space of a second, Malfoy looked just as shocked to see her, nearly dropping the shriveled arm he was carrying. Then Ginny noticed the normally invisible door ajar next to Malfoy and the whole situation came into crystalline focus as he raised his wand and a figure in a white mask emerged from the door.

"NO!" Ginny screamed, throwing herself around the corner, her only thought going toward staying between them and Tom Riddle. A spell crashed against the wall where she had stood, and she had just latched on to his wrist when utter pitch darkness fell around her.

"_Expelliarmus!_" she cried indiscriminately, flinging her wand at the darkness behind her. There was a yelp of surprise and then "_Stupefy!_" Ginny brought up a Shield Charm, praying that she was guarding the right side, but felt no spell hit her. There was shuffling in the darkness of far more than two people and Ginny tightened her grip on Riddle's wrist, groping at the wall to pull herself into a crouch.

Then, with horror, Ginny realized that Riddle was moving too. Ginny let out a shriek as another stray spell seared past her head, still undetectable in the unnatural darkness, and Riddle's hand twisted away from hers. With a sudden, blazing lurch in her stomach, Ginny dove to the ground and clawed forward through the darkness, head low, and sweeping with her arms until—there! She clutched at a pant leg and swept her wand up, concentrating with all her might on a nonverbal Stunning spell, hoping beyond all hope that this was Tom Riddle. The figure slumped with a light thump and Ginny crawled along the body, feeling it for any sign as to who it could be. He was not wearing robes, his hair felt soft, if a bit long, and his face had no mask, so Ginny hooked him under the arms and tried to keep low as she dragged him, using the wall as her guide.

As suddenly as it had come, the darkness disappeared. Ginny blinked in the sudden candlelight of the corridor, glancing behind her at what appeared to be a heavy cloud of solid black. Her knees almost went weak when she realized the body she dragged was in fact Tom Riddle. Quickly she levitated the body and found her bearings. The Death Eaters were nowhere to be seen, but she could hear shouts from lower in the castle. With a mix of relief and a terrible sinking feeling, Ginny realized they had been wrong; the Death Eaters must not have come for Riddle.

The thought of Luna, Ron, and Hermione down below stirred Ginny into action. There was no way she would make it back into the Room of Requirements. Instead she darted with Riddle to the closest hidden passage she could remember, an alcove behind a ticklish wall tapestry of a sour-looking witch who dodged away unless you froze her in time. The witch gave Ginny a look of despair as the wall swung open and Ginny dropped Riddle onto the floor. Vines shot out of her wand, binding him until he resembled some strange Amazonian breed of mummy. She tried her hand at a few Sticking charms to attach him to the wall for good measure, and with one last harried look at Riddle, dashed back out of the passage in the direction of the shouts and bangs, wand at the ready.

Little could have prepared her for the rest of that night. And nothing could have prepared her to see Albus Dumbledore splayed spread eagle at the foot of the Astronomy Tower, illuminated only by the Dark Mark.


	11. Deeper In

Difficulties of Avoidance

by dead2self

**A/N:** Another quick and easy to write chapter. I think I should mention again that this story, and particularly this chapter, will have spoilers from HBP and DH. But I think if you've read this far I've probably already spoiled a number of things for you anyways, so it probably don't matter. Just a heads. Also, funny story, I glanced over the last chapter and realized I had accidentally made it summer. Whoops! That's left over from reading the books while I was writing - the parallel HBP scenes take place at the beginning of summer. I corrected it and the last chapter is back in winter where it belongs.

To all of you who have been reviewing, thank you so much! I really appreciate it and I try to respond to all of my reviewers. To those of you who are looking for more Tom/Ginny interaction, hold on to your hats. It's well on its way. To those of you who are enjoying my story without reviewing, thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy this chapter too.

Last note: 10 page paper and finals over the next few weeks. Might slow me down... might not. Inspiration has been hitting a lot lately and now that Ginny and Tom are finally in a position to, you know, actually _talk_... We'll see...

Enjoy and review if you like it please!

* * *

"Snape killed Dumbledore."

Ginny closed her eyes. It was the second time she had heard it. She had seen it and she still had a hard time believing it. Professor McGonagall swayed uneasily at Harry's news and sat heavily in a chair Madame Pomfrey summoned for her. There was a second swirl of voices as the room exploded with questions and disbelief, but the Hospital Wing faded around Ginny.

She remembered dashing into the thick of it. Lupin, Emmeline Vance, and Bill had already been there with Ron, Hermione, and Luna and the first thing she had done was cast a Disarming Spell at the big blonde raining the Killing Curse like hellfire. He had blocked it and then dueled her in earnest.

She had seen Bill go down under the weight of Fenrir, could not have helped him if she tried, and then Lupin had descended upon the pair so ferociously that Greyback staggered away from her brother's prone body. All she had thought was _He's dead. He's dead and I was here_.

Snape had run past sometime. Snape, who she had defended at Christmas.

The Death Eater had born down on her and her misfired Stinging Hex had left her open, she was surely going to die, but Emmeline Vance had been beside her with a Shield Charm in an instant. As she took on the large blonde, a lumpy wizard was upon Ginny and it had taken all of her reflexes to avoid his Crucio Curse.

Harry had appeared from nowhere, cursing the wizard she was dueling, and Ginny had called for him, but he tore off as soon as he had gotten there. They had the Death Eaters on the run, but instead of following, Ginny tripped over Luna's Stunned body in her haste to get to Bill. She had screamed for Lupin, who had broken off his pursuit to kneel next to her.

Bill was not dead. But Snape had killed Dumbledore.

Ginny pulled herself back into the present, forcing herself to listen to the lament that drifted over the grounds. She had kept a clear head all night, even leading Harry up to the Hospital Wing. It would not do to lose it now.

"I don't know exactly how it happened," Professor McGonagall was saying distractedly. "It's all so confusing… Dumbledore had told us that he would be leaving the school for a few hours and that we were to patrol the corridors just in case… Remus, Bill, and Emmeline were to join us… and so we patrolled. All seemed quiet. Every secret passageway out of the school was covered. We knew nobody could fly in. There were powerful enchantments on every entrance into the castle. I still don't know how the Death Eaters can possibly have entered…"

"I do. Malfoy connected two Vanishing Cabinets," Harry supplied, briefly describing what he had overheard from Malfoy. "So, one was hidden in the Room of Requirements—"

Whatever else he said fell on deaf ears as Ginny's head shot up with sudden dread. "_Luna!_" she shrieked, and shot out of the room. Her legs burned against the movement – she felt she had been running all night – but she ignored the discomfort. All the she could think of was that the only thing that could make this night worse was if Tom Riddle was no longer behind the ticklish tapestry.

"Ginny, what is it?" Luna's breathy voice was nearly frantic. "Why are we running?"

Ginny could not spare breath to answer until they came to a stop in front of the tapestry, using what little energy she had to shout "_Impedimenta!_" at the fleeing witch, tickle her, and tug the door open. Relief flooded over her.

"He's still here," she breathed, sighting the vine-wrapped figure in the alcove. She stepped into the alcove to retrieve him, and was greeted with a howl of rage.

"Blood-traitor _filth_!" Riddle spat, his dark eyes showing white. His lips were pulled back from his teeth in an animalistic growl. "I swear, the minute I touch a wand, I will kill you. I will burn my mark in the skies above your families and if a single hair off a Weasley head exists when I am done, I will not be satisfied. Your precious _Harry Potter_ will—" He cut off with a sharp hiss of pain when Ginny stomped hard on his exposed fingers, bound uselessly at his side. A flash of Bill in a pool of his own blood brought her heel down again with a nasty crunch.

"Ginny!" Luna cried, pushing her out of the way and kneeling over Riddle. "_Tergeo_," she said gently, fist clearing the blood from his face, and then pointing first to his hand and then his lip, she said "_Episkey_."

"Do you think I want your sympathy, you stupid girl?" Riddle snarled up at her, spittle flecking onto Luna's cheek. "Do you want me to thank you for healing the minor injuries you inflicted upon me yourself? No. No, this changes nothing. I'll take your father before you. You will not recognize him by the time he dies, and you will watch, just like before."

Ginny tried to push past Luna with a cry of rage, but Luna stood to her full height and threw out an arm to stop her. She stared down at Riddle, eyes wide and unreadable. "No, Tom," she said. "I understand you have suffered a major disappointment tonight, but that does not allow you to threaten us nor our families. Tonight you are the one acting like a fool, not me."

"_Allow me_—_fool—_" Riddle seethed, but he had barely gotten the words out when Ginny said, "_Silencio_." The small space now sounded oddly muted, for Riddle's mouth was still screaming expressively and his eyes bulged with effort.

"I suppose we should just put him back," Ginny muttered.

Luna did not answer right away. She was staring off into space, her brow slightly furrowed. Then she looked down at Riddle and said, "_Muffliato_." With a frown directed at Tom, she said, "I do hope this spell works; I remember Harry quite liked it last year. Ginny do you think the Room of Requirements has been acting a little strange lately?"

"Strange how?" Ginny asked. She kept her voice low just in case the spell was wrong.

"Do you remember the Room of Requirements when we used it during the DA? Whenever you needed a certain book or another cushion to set out, there it was. But the past few months, I've needed cleaning supplies and Wrackspurt wards countless times and I've gotten nothing. I've been thinking this for several weeks now, but didn't it seem _frozen_ to you?"

Ginny thought over the many times she needed a book to shove her nose in while Cho made eyes at Harry during all those DA meetings and realized quite rapidly that surely Tom had felt he needed _something_ besides a bed, a chair, a table, and a toilet in the half year since he had been imprisoned in the room. "You think Dumbledore did something to it?" she asked.

"Yes, but whatever it was won't be there anymore now that he's dead, will it?" Luna continued. "We're going to have to remake the Room ourselves."

"Okay," Ginny said slowly. "Okay… We can do this. We'll just have to think specifics when we walk past the room, that's all." Turning on Riddle, she said, "_Petrificus Totalus_," and he stiffened like a wax figure in apocalyptic rage. This time, Luna levitated him (not surprisingly, Ginny's Sticking Charms didn't hold well) and Ginny noticed she took care not to knock him against the floor or the doorway. The marched towards the corridor and passed the entrance to the Room, once, twice, three times, thinking furiously about the Room they needed.

_I need a place to keep Tom Riddle, a place he can't escape… _she thought. _A place that only me and Luna can enter… that he can't control… with a door that opens with our Patronuses and no one else's. _

A non-descript door had appeared on the wall and Luna took Riddle inside alone. Her Patronus flashed through the door a moment later and when Ginny answered it, Luna slipped out of the room looking satisfied, if somewhat sick. "It's the same, although the enchantments when you enter are gone."

"It'll probably be better to see him the second we step into the room anyways," Ginny said. "I don't trust him farther than I could throw a troll." That done, Ginny turned away from the Room of Requirements, her mind already back with her brother in the Hospital Wing.

"Ginny."

The voice stopped Ginny. She had never heard a voice sound so small in her life. She glanced back and there was Luna, standing stock still in the middle of the corridor and looking more pale and terrified than anyone Ginny had ever encountered.

"This is all my fault," Luna whispered. "Malfoy got into the castle because of me."

"What? Luna no—"

"It's true. You heard Harry; he came out of a Vanishing Cabinet in the Room of Requirements. He couldn't have used the Room until there was no one in it – until I let Tom Riddle escape. That's why he was here this week, checking the Room."

Unsettling though this was, Ginny persisted, "He tricked you Luna; you couldn't have known, really, what it would come to."

Then, in the quietest voice yet, Luna said, "I wasn't tricked. I haven't been putting the Full Body-Bind on him for about a week. I couldn't do it anymore."

It hit Ginny like a Stinging Hex to the face. She was speechless, but she felt that she should be angry.

"We've been treating him so terribly."

"No we haven't!" she gasped. First term was blossoming up in her face all over again and Ginny was stricken that Luna could ever forget what had come of that. Now her anger was coming back. "You just heard him – he wants to kill us!"

"I know I should have been more cautious," Luna said carefully, slowly. "But… But, I know what I was doing was still the right thing."

"_Right?_" she shrieked. "My brother is in the Hospital Wing with half a face. Dumbledore is _dead_!"

Luna's words now poured out fast as Ginny stalked toward her. "Ginny, if you were in his place – no, don't make excuses, I've already done that – if you were being held captive and your captors never talked to you and treated you like an animal, just Stunning you every time they gave you food, it would be terrible. We are only treating him this way because we are scared of him—"

"For good reason, I think," Ginny exploded.

"But if that fear leads us to torture, it is not okay. Ginny, Dumbledore is _dead_. He can't protect us from Tom anymore."

"Riddle doesn't need to know that. In fact, with Dumbledore gone, maybe we should start thinking about whether or not we should be taking care of him at all!"

"We are not murderers Ginny." Luna's voice came out hard, like a struck bell, and the contrast between her normally dreamy voice and this was so pronounced it stopped Ginny in her tracks. "That will never be an option. I will duel you before I allow you to kill Tom Riddle." There was a heavy sinking shame in her chest, and without wanting to admit it, Ginny knew Luna was right. Ginny now pacified, Luna continued, "I think he will find out about Dumbledore whether we like it or not – Tom is very smart. And then what if he escapes again? With Dumbledore gone, what if You-Know-Who gets into Hogwarts? We won't be able to stop him."

A silence drifted between them. Standing opposite in that moonlit corridor, the eerie green light from the Dark Mark penetrating even to there, Ginny felt there was more than the three feet of floor between them. It seemed they were on opposite sides of a gulf and the slightest movement would separate them forever. Ginny took a long breath and Luna dug her nails into her palms.

"We need to have Tom on our side. We have to convince him not to go to Voldemort. Without Dumbledore here, that must be our mission."

"That's impossible," Ginny said weakly.

"We have to try anyways."

Briefly Ginny realized she was afraid, not of pain or death, but of putting herself open before Tom Riddle once more – for she was sure this would be required. "I don't want to do this," she whispered.

"This is no longer about what we want. Will you be with me, or will I have to do this alone?" Ginny met Luna's gaze and was frightened to see the other girl shaking. Her eyes were strong, but she was terrified. Ginny crossed the gulf in three easy steps.

"No Luna, never alone."

* * *

The next few days were a whirl of activity. Her parents had come with Phlegm in tow, and Ron had described in vivid detail the scene she had missed in the Hospital Wing. She nearly found herself taking a liking to the girl. Hogwarts had almost been closed, but violent protests to the contrary, not least of these coming from Harry Potter and Luna Lovegood, moved Professor McGonagall for the time being to take up the mantle of Acting Headmistress. Nonetheless, several parents showed up to take their children as early as the next morning. Eveline Knapper disappeared with her mother and Ginny witnessed Harper in a screaming match with his parents in the entrance hall (Ginny thought she heard the words "Head Boy and "duty in crisis" and almost liked him for a moment too). Preparations were underway for Dumbledore's funeral and in the midst of this Luna delivered all of Riddle's meals. Rage bubbled up at the thought of him and Ginny simply did not trust herself to not hex him upon sight.

Wind and snow howled on the grounds, but the funeral was held outdoors nonetheless. The Professors stood around the edge of the proceedings struggling to fight against the elements, but even as she cast a Warming Charm, Ginny was still cold. All around her people were wrapped in their warmest robes, most shaking more from tears then from the cold. There was an enormous crack from the direction of the lake, and Ginny looked over in time to see merpeople peeking up through holes in the ice before the terrible, beautiful song began. Harry, who had not said much to her at all for the past few days, looked confused until Ginny pointed them out to him. Letting her eyes rove back over the crowd – there was Neville looking slightly shabby and Ginny wondered what he had been up to this year, and there was the Minister of Magic trailed by _Umbridge_ of all people. Her family was seated together closer to the front, although Percy was missing from the pack. Tonks, sitting with Remus, was now enormous but her cheeks shined red with tears.

Then Ginny saw him. She nudged Harry in the ribs and pointed soundlessly as Hagrid moved up the aisle, cradling a bundle of purple velvet that was surely Dumbledore's body. Everything welled up in her chest, and Ginny found all the tears she had stilled for the past few days falling at once. Hagrid placed the Headmaster on the table with the softest gentleness and stumbled back up the aisle, blowing his nose with the sound of a car horn. Ginny found herself wanting to laugh through her tears and immediately felt guilty. She turned her attention closely to the small, silver man giving Dumbledore's eulogy, but was taken unawares when he finished and white, dancing flames curled around Dumbledore's body. She let out a shout of terror before she realized it was magical fire, and before she had a chance to study it further, the flames had disappeared, leaving a long white tomb in its place.

Ginny blinked away the last of her tears as the centaurs fired their salute, holding tightly to Harry's hand. That was it, then. And Harry would be gone before she knew it, off fighting Voldemort. She turned a blazing look at Harry, knowing what she had to say, but unsure how to approach telling him that they needed to recruit his greatest enemy.

"Ginny, listen…" Harry was staring back with as much conviction as she felt, and Ginny felt her heart drop for she knew what was coming. "I don't think we can see each other anymore."

Ginny's first instinct was violent. She had not fought this off for nearly two years just to let him leave her now when she needed him the most. But the words were barely on her tongue when she realized he was right. Everything was different now. Dumbledore could not protect them and if Harry had reason to protect her from Voldemort, she certainly had reason to protect him too. With a faint shiver, she realized that constant close contact with Tom Riddle would mean she had to know as little as possible of Harry's life.

"It's some stupid, noble thing, isn't it?" she said with a small smile, staring solidly back at him.

"I can't…" he answered lamely. "We can't… Voldemort will go after and use the people I love, and I can't justify putting you in danger anymore… if this were your funeral…"

Ginny cut him off, willing him to see that she understood, that she was not fighting this time. "I think I knew I couldn't hold this off forever. You know how I feel, but I know what you have to do." Conversation buzzed around them as people were getting to their feet. She gave a half-laugh. "You just can't help saving the Wizarding World, can you?"

Harry quirked a miserable smile and moved as if to kiss her as he got up. Then thinking better of it, he stopped short and with one last solemn look, he hurried away.

Ginny took a deep, steeling breath and looked up to the castle, barely visible through the gale of snow. The Dark Mark was gone, but the castle had now lost all vestige of comfort for her. Now it was just Luna and Ginny, she thought. And Tom Riddle.


	12. Churning Up Waves

Difficulties of Avoidance

by dead2self

**A/N:** I'm still not totally sure how I feel about this one... it may undergo some heavy editing, but I didn't want to leave you all hanging before I charged into final papers, finals, and moving back to America! For now, enjoy the chapter!

**Edit 06/03/11: **Some minor edits

* * *

Things were not going well with Tom Riddle. Ginny still had not been in to see him since before the night Dumbledore died. Luna had started with the basics that she had already begun the week before, talking to him while she gave him the best food they could coax out of the elves. Reportedly, he was still saying quite nasty things about their families. They considered giving him books for something to do during the long days, but Luna emerged from the Room one evening with a welt rising on her head where he had struck her with it. She had to physically restrain Ginny from charging into the Room to teach him a lesson.

School was little better, for a constant fear seemed to hang over the students. Quidditch had been cancelled for the rest of the year, which she bemoaned greatly in front of the team, but was just as well for Ginny. In light of the impossible task that now lay before them, Quidditch seemed a trivial use of time. This, coming from Ginny, probably would have knocked each of her brothers flat on their backs.

Luna spent nearly all of her spare time escorting students around the castle, the only upside to this being that Harper was equally busy and now had less time to tail Ginny and Luna. He had been marginally satisfied with the explanation that they had been chasing down a young Death Eater, not a student, when they had Stunned him out of confusion. Unfortunately, that also meant that the entire school knew they had been involved in the fight. All of the younger students moved around Ginny half as if she were some dueling champion and half as if she were about to break down in tears at any moment.

The only progress they made with Riddle was that, after the issue with the throwing, he did seem to be reading the books. Luna threw up a Shield Charm when she entered the Room, just in case, and excitedly brought him a few issues of the Quibbler. She reported that his moods swung wildly from cold and collected, sometimes even charming, to screaming mad depending on the day, and she added that no matter what there was an underlying tone of frustration in his moods. Ginny could not fault him on this; she swung so violently between speechless anger and wanting to curl up on her bed these days that it was no wonder she had first years walking on eggshells around her in the common room.

Her breaking point on both fronts came only a week after Dumbledore's death. Ginny had joined the Ravenclaw table for a change of pace and was finding their annoyed glances far more unnerving than Luna let on about the Gryffindors. Luna, after finishing her weekly perusal of the month's Quibbler, had reluctantly reached for a _Daily Prophet_ that had been left on the table.

"Ooh!" she said after reading the first page (a glowing obituary for Albus Dumbledore, Ginny noticed). "Rita Skeeter! Ginny, didn't you see her at the funeral? She was sitting right behind you."

"No," Ginny answered, now wary. "What's she saying now?"

Luna did not answer, burying her nose in the newspaper once more. The longer she read, however, the lower her brow furrowed. Finally, she said, "Never mind this. Daddy's always said the _Daily Prophet_ is rubbish anyways."

Ginny, who privately thought that Luna's father was quite the expert on rubbish journalism, took the paper with trepidation. "Dumbledore – The Truth at Last" was emblazoned across the top of the page, and as she started reading the article, she realized exactly what Luna had meant. Her incredulity grew with each word until the final bombshell at the end. Certain that it had been a mistake, she read it again.

"In a journalistic career, even one as vast as my own, one rarely has a chance to become exceptionally close with one's subjects because one must keep an objective perspective," says Skeeter. "Nonetheless, I can truly say that I have developed a close bond with Harry Potter. We met during one of the most trying moments in his life – the Triwizard Tournament. I am probably one of the only people alive who can say that they know the real Harry Potter."

Which leads us neatly to the many rumors still circulating about Dumbledore's final hours. Does Skeeter believe that Potter was there when Dumbledore died?

"Well, I don't want to say too much – it's all in the book – but witnesses saw Harry Potter running away from the scene moments after Dumbledore fell, jumped, or was pushed. Potter later gave evidence against Severus Snape, a man against whom he has a notorious grudge. You know I have nothing but love for the boy, but I am bound to report the facts. If you have been reading the _Daily Prophet_, you already know that he is beginning to push away even his closest friends (see page 10). Is everything as it seems? That is for the Wizarding community to decide—once they've read my book, due out in two weeks time."

Blinking furiously, Ginny turned to page ten. Her face, tearstained, stared morosely up from a small lifestyle column and Ginny almost dropped the paper. Dread welling up in her chest, she read on.

**The Tragedy of the Boy Who Lived**

The events of the past week have been a trying time for the entirety of the Wizarding world, but no one has been more strongly affected than young Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, _writes Rita Skeeter_, _Special Correspondent_. Reportedly at the scene of the crime when Dumbledore died, this is just another death in a string of misfortunes that have haunted the boy over the past five years. All across the Wizarding world, people are asking themselves: how does Harry Potter cope with the tragedy that is his life?

Poorly, this correspondent is sad to report. As most of the Wizarding community is aware, Harry Potter graduated last summer with an undisclosed number of NEWTs and a reported ambition to become an Auror, but has yet to apply for the training program or any intermediate jobs. His contact with the outside world is confined to a dangerously small group of people who seem to be working to keep things this way. Upon contacting the Weasley family for comment, a _Daily Prophet_ reporter was sent a vicious Howler threatening her to stay away from the boy. Arthur Weasley, an employee at the Ministry of Magic, has been known to flout the laws he himself has written and obstruct investigations by this very office. Indeed, Harry's closest compatriots include many unsavory characters such as a werewolf and the half-giant, Hagrid, violent mentors who can have no good influence on the boy. Indeed, throughout his years at Hogwarts, Harry Potter became known for his extraordinary tempers.

"I was often quite scared of him," admits recent graduate, Pansy Parkinson. "He was always hexing my friends and I often heard him screaming at his own friends as well."

Sadly, this treatment of his friends was not a trait that Harry Potter left behind at school, and no one knows this fact better than Miss Ginevra Weasley, Harry Potter's girlfriend of two years. The pair was witnessed parting ways no more than seconds after Dumbledore was laid to rest. Miss Weasley was left nearly speechless while Potter cited nonsensical reasons, among which was the implication that he might soon be attending her funeral.

Commenting after the damage was done, a tearful Miss Weasley viciously said that Harry Potter "just can't help running off to 'save the Wizarding world'." This move to isolate himself from the rest of the world is further evidence that Harry Potter is walking a perilous path, one that might spell more destruction than a broken heart if he is not stopped.

Ginny slammed the paper down on the table so hard she overturned a pitcher of pumpkin juice. "What!" she snapped at the Ravenclaw who had opened his mouth to complain. Her face was hot and she had to keep blinking. She got up as Harper swept up to the table.

"Lovegood, meeting with the Heads of Houses."

Luna looked up from the syrup she was mixing in with her pumpkin juice and nodded, although McGonagall appeared behind Harper before she could get up.

"Mr. Harper, Miss Lovegood, I will be with you shortly. Miss Weasley, a word." Swallowing hard, Ginny fell in step behind McGonagall.

"I do hope someone will feed my pet Floberwing," Luna was saying loudly to Harper. "He tends to fraternize with tapestries if I'm not around, but I just don't have time tonight. I suppose I could let him out after the meeting…"

"What are you going on about, Lovegood?" Harper growled, but that was all Ginny could hear before the left the Great Hall. It had not helped the sinking feeling in her stomach, because she was fairly sure what Luna had been going on about.

To Ginny's surprise, McGonagall took her all the way to her office and shut the door against the ears of prying students. She settled down behind her desk and offered Ginny a biscuit before asking, "Have you been reading the _Prophet_, Miss Weasley?"

"Yes," Ginny bit out hard.

McGonagall raised her brow. "Ah, I see. Miss Weasley, I must then advise you that it would be unwise to write letters to Mr. Potter at the time being, though I can see why you might be inclined. We have good reason to believe that the Ministry has been deeply infiltrated and has been capturing and searching owls on the grounds of security. I do not know what Mr. Potter is doing under Albus' orders—" Here Professor McGonagall's voice cracked and Ginny hastened to interrupt her.

"Don't worry Professor; Harry and I aren't together anymore."

"Then it's true!" she said with some alarm.

"Of course not!" Ginny cried, defensive. "It's the only thing they got right!"

McGonagall coughed and took a moment to compose herself while Ginny looked politely away. "Pardon me, Miss Weasley. I am sorry to hear that. Nonetheless, do be careful what you write to your parents. If you need an explicit message passed to them, please come to me."

Ginny left McGonagall's office towards the kitchens feeling unreasonably frustrated. If even McGonagall, who Ginny did not peg as a gossip columnist reader, had seen the article, then her private life was certainly on display for the entire Wizarding world. With a stab she realized this could not have gone any better for their plan; with such a public break-up it would not be rumors that floated to Voldemort about who Harry loved, but news. So why did it rankle so terribly?

She collected Riddle's food in the kitchens wordlessly, swallowing something that felt stuck in her throat. What was worse, the elf who was friends with Harry seemed to be regarding her with something of a cold shoulder – for an elf anyway. "Here is the foods," he said, leaving off the colloquial "Miss." His already large eyes widened with shock and sudden guilt, as the rest of the elves seemed to shift collectively in discomfort, before he scurried away. Ginny had hardly gotten out of the dungeons when she realized tears were streaming down her cheeks. Even a house elf thought she was a bitter harpy!

Sir Cadogan found her somewhere along the second floor and followed her until the sixth, demanding that she name the hooligan who had wronged her so that he could avenge her tears. He stopped only when Ginny sent a furious Blasting Charm that barely missed the portrait of the Fat Lady's friend Violet that he had invaded. Both portraits protested violently, but Ginny charged past them.

Throwing the door open with a thundering crash, Ginny stormed into the Room of Requirement, cheeks still shining with furious tears. Tom surveyed her from where he lounged in his chair. The plate clattered when she dropped it down on the table and she glared fiercely at him, willing him to even _breathe_ the wrong way at her right now. He swung himself silently out of the chair and stalked towards her, staring steadily. Ginny thought there was a line of frustration on his forehead – or was that a crease of amusement? Never taking his eyes from her, he sipped at the pumpkin juice she handed him. She crossed her arms over her chest, unwilling to step back even an inch when he stood over her.

"Pleasure to see you again, Ginny. So are you waiting for me to comfort you, or are you just hoping to get in a fight?" There was a hard edge of annoyance in his voice.

"Do I look like I need comforting from _you_?" she asked coldly.

His hand shot out and he brushed his thumb along her tearstained cheek with mock gentleness. "Oh? What's this?" She slapped his hand away violently and his lips curled. "Ah, a fight then."

"_Keep your hands off me_."

"You came in here looking for a fight, and it just so happens that I'm in the mood myself. So come on, Weasley, let's have it. What's got you blubbering like a homesick first year Hufflepuff?" The phrase "save the Wizarding world" fluttered up in her mind and immediately pushed aside all conviction concerning Tom Riddle. He needn't ask twice; her voice rose to meet his.

"I'm sorry, am I annoying you with my _feelings_? Let's get this straight right now, Riddle: I hate you and now I'm pretty sure you hate me, so excuse me if I don't cater to your preferences when I'm having a bad day."

"Bad day?" Tom shot back with a derisive laugh. "What could possibly constitute as a bad day for you? Too much Charms homework? Or did Potter finally come to his senses and drop you by the wayside? Merlin only knows what he saw in a squat stick of a girl like you."

Ginny couldn't help the blood rushing to her head. "I bet you've never even had a good snog, have you Riddle? Too busy enchanting diaries to seduce eleven-year-old girls?"

"Ah, so Potter _did_ drop you. I can't imagine why – was it your obsessive control, your incessant pouting, or the fact that he can't trust you?"

"This is none of your business, but it was mutual and Rita Skeeter can go—"

"Oh, it was mutual!" Riddle threw back a cold, high laugh that twisted his features. "Of course it was not, you silly little girl. You haven't grown up in the slightest. What was it again? Oh, yes: _Oh Tom_," he cooed, quoting her memory, "_no one has _ever_ understood me like you!_ I suppose you thought that was mutual too?"

"_Ginny, it was awful_," Ginny crowed in a fair imitation of Tom's voice. "_In the orphanage we never got three meals a day and all the other children hated me._"

"_Oh Tom, was it absolutely terrible? You're so brave to talk about it!_ What a sentimental idiot you are!"

"Better a sentimental idiot than a black-hearted idiot!"

Riddle prowled around her, hardly blinking. "There is nothing unintelligent about being un-weakened by foolish emotions."

"You think I'm weak? Look at you! You've been stuck in a room for half a year, only surviving because of us! _I, the Dark Lord Voldemort, am being spoon-fed by two silly little girls. Maybe if I throw books at their heads it'll smooth things over_!"

Riddle's wand hand darted reflexively to his pocket, but having no wand, he let out a sudden shriek of frustration. A potions manual they had brought for him exploded in a burst of Accidental magic. Ginny screamed a derisive laugh through the fluttering pages and pushed harder.

"_I, the Dark Lord, am reduced to childish, uncontrollable magic and—_"

"Shut up!" Riddle screamed. "Shut up, you filthy blood-traitor!"

"Better that than a backwards Slytherin _bastard!_"

Ginny yelped as Riddle hurled the glass of pumpkin juice at her, dodging it merely by the grace of her Quidditch reflexes. It shattered against the wall behind her, and as he lunged toward her, it was all the reason she needed to hit Riddle with her strongest Bat-Bogey Hex. She left him frantically warding his face against the hex and fired her Patronus through the wall. To her relief, Luna was there to open the door.

Luna was slightly pink, as if she had recently jogged the length of the castle. "You should know that Floberwings are not real," she said quickly. "I made it up to keep Harper from knowing about Tom." Luna's easy smile dropped off suddenly at the look on Ginny's face.

"I cursed him and he deserved it," Ginny growled. She stormed past Luna in a huff, fiercely ignoring her disapproving frown. She did not regret it for a minute; she had needed to scream at _someone_.

"Blasting portraits are you, missy?" said the Fat Lady when Ginny arrived at Gryffindor Tower. Violet was glowering down at her with arms crossed.

"_Forbearance_," Ginny snapped.

"You could use a bit yourself, dear," the Fat Lady tutted, but swung reluctantly open.


	13. Calming the Storm

The Difficulties of Avoidance

by dead2self

**A/N:** It's that time of year again! Harry Potter mania is in the air as I'm getting ready to re-read all seven books for the seventh movie, which means fanfiction inspiration! I haven't actually started the books yet, but I'm currently studying for the LSAT and that means procrastination. So I finally got around to finishing this chapter! More fun Tom and Ginny interactions, so I hope you enjoy!

May go back an edit later, as there's some parts I'm still not happy with. Please crit and review!

* * *

Light filtering through the drapes on her bed woke Ginny and she pulled her blankets over her head to ward off the growing unease in her stomach. She wanted to go back to sleep. There were rustles from her housemates, already stirring, and busy thoughts came unbidden into her head. She tried to recall the _Prophet_, but even that anger could not change that the night before had been a colossal failure.

Ginny was appropriately shamefaced at breakfast. It did not help that she received several commiserating letters and several letters reprimanding her for revenging herself on Harry by lambasting him in the _Prophet_. She had narrowly avoided getting a suspicious looking powder on her hands from the most recent letter when Luna drifted over to the Gryffindor table.

"Good morning, Ginny." Ginny's heart sunk into her stomach as she turned to face her friend. But with a tone of distraction, Luna said, "Oh, that's pretty. Did you make it yourself?"

Ginny, confused for but a moment, yelped and jumped away from a previously innocuous letter that had burst into vibrant green flames. Screams erupted down the table as students scrambled to get out of their seats and Ginny tried a litany of spells until the magical fire extinguished, leaving the ends of her hair gently singed.

"From my readers at the _Prophet_," Ginny said bitterly, quickly Vanishing her remaining mail as her fellow Gryffindors trickled back to their seats. "Sorry Luna, what was it you wanted?"

"I just wanted to talk about Tom. I don't think last night went as well as we could have hoped."

Ginny's eyebrows shot into her hairline, but she leapt out of her seat to usher Luna away from two passing Slytherin fourth-years who engaged in a fierce whispered conversation so fast it was a wonder their heads had not knocked together. "Has anyone ever told you that you need a bit of tact, Luna?" she hissed.

"Oh, yes, all the time," Luna answered. "But sometimes I think they just mean I should lie more often."

"Didn't seem to be a problem with Harper last night."

Luna's lips tightened and she gave a small sniff. "I believe Harper is beginning to bring out the worst of my qualities. I have never met a person with less _character_."

"Really? You seemed to like him… er, find him interesting enough at the beginning of the year."

"Yes, well—that isn't important anyhow! I suppose you think you've gotten out of talking about Tom?"

"No, Luna, I'm sorry; you were right. Last night was a disaster. I s'ppose I should—" she nearly swallowed the word, "—apologize."

"I will not accept empty words of apology!" Both Ginny and Luna jumped at the voice echoing through the hall, only to recognize the characteristic clanking from a nearby portrait. "Draw your sword, vicious siren, and duel me with honor!" cried Sir Cadogan.

Three goblins leered dangerously at the knight in their frame as he struggled fruitlessly against his scabbard and Luna approached the portrait. "Hello, Sir Cadogan," she said. "How do you do?"

"Quite—well—Fair—Maiden," he wheezed as his fat gray pony idled into the frame and chewed at its bit. He managed to release the sword as Ginny approached and pointed it valiantly at her. "Ahah! Prepare yourself, vicious siren!"

Ginny held in her laughter as he attempted some showy swordplay and tangled his sword in his pony's bridle. She bent down and smiled at him. "Oh Sir Cadogan, I _am_ sorry I shot a spell at you. I could tell you I was having a bad day, but I still shouldn't have done it. Is there anything I can do to make up for it?"

"I—er—" the knight stuttered, losing his grip on his sword. The wild-eyed pony trotted off with it, throwing its head to try to dislodge the terrifying object so close to its neck. With a clanking cough, the knight stood a little straighter. "Very well, yes. I see that I have persuaded you from your evil ways. Your thanks is the only payment I require."

"Glad we're square again," she said, suddenly alighting upon a plan that would have made her brothers proud. "You were right last night, Sir Cadogan. I am a maiden in distress. Can you help me?"

After getting over the shock of actually being asked for help, Sir Cadogan dipped into a creaky bow and said, "I cannot ignore a plea for help from such a fair maiden as you. What services do you desire?"

"I need you to follow the Head Boy around the castle today. It's very important that you don't lose sight of him in the corridors, for he is absolutely up to no good."

"The scoundrel! I shall go forth valiantly!"

Ginny planted her hands on her hips smugly as the knight waddled after the pony to retrieve his sword three portraits over.

"That wasn't very nice," Luna said.

"Please, Luna, it's Harper," Ginny answered, leading the way toward the dungeon. "He deserves it."

"No, I meant poor Sir Cadogan will be running all over the castle for the entire day. He'll be exhausted."

"He loves this sort of thing, Luna."

In the kitchens, Ginny noticed that Harry's elf friend had been shuffled as far away from them as possible, a corner where he was pouring pumpkin juice into a multitude of cups for lunch, and the house elves gave her an extra dessert. Luna carried the plates up to the seventh corridor while Ginny ate the biscuit and guided them away from Harper by listening for armor clanking. In the seventh corridor, Ginny stepped back, but Luna handed her the plates.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea yet, Luna," Ginny said, pushing them back. "You didn't see him last night."

"I think it would be best if you smoothed things over as soon as possible," Luna said, unblinking. "You can't keep dwelling on him being your enemy if this will ever work."

Ginny bit back a retort, as Luna seemed to have no inclination to take the plate back. But as she shouldered her way through the door, she thought it unlikely that she would ever feel something for Riddle beyond fear or anger. Indeed, those were the only two states in which she entered this room, and without the thin veneer of rage over her eyes, she was now returned to her familiar first year anxiety.

_Gryffindor courage,_ she reminded herself, and stepped into the room, wand out, but Riddle was still lying on the bed. Screwing up her voice, she called, "Breakfast." The figure on the bed started, and then he rolled over.

"Not hexing me anymore? I'm appalled at your oversight."

"Dumbledore talked to us about how we were treating you," Ginny lied, and for a moment when she set the food down on the table, her back was to him. She wheeled around, still nervous, and added, "Sorry, I guess."

Riddle's eyes narrowed. He was sitting up now, and was studying her closely, and she studied him in turn. He was far more gaunt than she remembered him, but despite the dark circles under his eyes, he was still handsome. His dark hair was mussed to one side and there were lines from the pillow on his face. Ginny was shocked to find him utterly _normal_.

"You're lying," he accused.

Ginny shrugged. "You're right, I'm not particularly sorry. Luna is though, but you probably already know that since you took advantage of it." With another glance at his gaunt face, she added, "And have you not been eating?"

Riddle swung his feet to the floor and stood up in one swift movement. He was next to Ginny before she expected it and she almost recoiled. With a small smile curling on his lips, Riddle picked up a roll from his plate. "What does it matter to you if I eat? Don't tell me you are suddenly overcome with pity for me?"

Ginny raised an eyebrow at him. "Hardly. Dumbledore's orders. Clean that plate; I have class."

"Lying again."

"Yeah, I have free period, but I'd rather not spend it with you."

Riddle noted her suspiciously, but sunk deeply into the armchair – which looked as though patches had been torn off by hand now – and picked up the plate.

"You're in a better mood today," Ginny noted, trying to make her voice sound friendly.

"Peas in a pod. While you're still in this friendly mood, could you convince Dumbledore to give me back my chair? I loathe this _thing_."

"I think it looks comfortable enough. Any other housekeeping requests, Riddle?"

"Do not patronize me." He took a swig from his glass, noting her through his brow. "My name is Lord Voldemort, and you would do well to remember it."

Ginny repressed a shudder and raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh will I? I'm sorry _Tom_, but you introduced yourself to me as Tom Riddle six years ago and I'm afraid it's just going to stick with you now." She was close enough to see his nostrils flare and his fist clench at his side, and she jumped to say, "Listen, Riddle, about last night… I shouldn't have—"

"Don't be modest. You wanted to yell and I wanted to hex you until you would never walk properly again. At least one of us got what they wanted."

Ginny felt her hackles rising again. "You were pretty keen on yelling yourself."

"A necessary alternative."

His eyes, trained hungrily on her, distracted Ginny long enough from her retort to take a deep breath. "Okay, no, I don't want to fight again." Ginny was quite unprepared for him to _snort_ at her. "Why do _you_ want to fight so badly then?" she demanded hotly. "You were never like this before."

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I've spent the better part of the past month unconscious."

"No, not now. When I knew you before, in the diary."

"Maybe the finer points of deception escape you, but naturally I would not have gone around picking fights with you if I was pretending to be your friend."

"You didn't always deceive me, Riddle. You were quite open with your intentions toward me near the end. If anything, I would have said you considered screaming matches beneath you." Ginny circled behind his chair as he slashed into his eggs, staring down at the back of his head. How was it that he and Harry were so remarkably similar?

"No, you know what I think? I think you're picking fights with me because it's the only thing you can do to me anymore. Tough luck, Riddle – I'm not going to fight with you. Heckle me to your heart's content; there will be no more yelling matches from me."

"I won't hold my breath." The plate fell with a clatter as he heaved himself out of the chair and turned on Ginny. He trailed a hand along the chair as he circled it, eyes never leaving Ginny, and she had to step back against the chair. "I suppose you think it's mighty big of you to restrain yourself from hexing me. You pretend to understand me, but I see you haven't forgotten that I terrorized you for a year. Any simpleton could see you jump and fumble and your pupils dilate and your hands tremor. You fear me, and rightly so, for I have not forgotten either. Every hex, every Stun, every broken bone, I will repay back tenfold. Dumbledore was a cruel fool for placing you between me and my freedom."

Ginny kept a firm grip on her wand and her eyes resolutely on the bookcase to her left even as he closed her in against the chair, leaning over her. "A shame you wasted your only chance then," she said vaguely.

"Hah! Dumbledore will have to plant himself in front of that door himself if he wants to stop me getting out again!" His lips quirked at the corners when Ginny shoved her wand at his chest.

"Riddle, move." The air between them felt stagnant and the fabric of the chair strained against his tightening grip.

"That lasted five minutes, didn't it?"

"This is self-defense, not mindlessly hexing you."

"Right. Go on and defend yourself then," he said, reaching for her wand hand.

Then, with the reflexes of a Chaser, Ginny rammed her shoulder into his chest. He bent with a grunt and made a grab for her, but she darted under his arm and around the chair. "There – no hexes!" she crowed.

"Just like a blood-traitor to use filthy Muggle tricks," he grunted, clutching on to the armchair, whether to steady himself or restrain himself, Ginny was unsure.

"That was _Quidditch_, Riddle," Ginny replied, turning to the mess on the floor. "_Scourgify_."

"I thought you wanted me to eat more."

"Then you shouldn't throw your food on the ground like a three-year-old," she retorted, picking up the discarded plate. "And speaking of filthy Muggle tricks and throwing food, _you're_ the one who threw a glass at me last night. What do you call that? Some sort of half-blood reflex?"

Riddle's lip curled dangerously, but instead of responding he retreated to the chair and settled into it. He closed his eyes, and then his face was calm again.

"I think it's time for you to go," he said when he opened his eyes. There was no trace of anger left in his voice, but Ginny's skin tingled and she was all too happy to send her Patronus through the door.

"Was it alright?" Luna asked as she struggled up from where she was sitting against the wall. "You were in there for quite some time."

"Y-Yeah," Ginny answered, trying to shake away the strange feeling at the nape of her neck. "Yeah, I was just talking to him. I didn't hex him, so that went better."

"He… hasn't gotten any better, has he?"

"Of course not, Luna. You just saw him yesterday, and if anything we've had a setback with me blowing up at him."

Luna sighed and stared at the invisible door as if she could see behind it. She remained lost in thought until she said, "I think I'm going to go feed the thestrals during my free period. It's been quite some time since I've seen them."

"Um, alright," Ginny answered, looking down at her watch. She ought to get started on her Potions essay… or rather, avoid the potions essay and write the Defense essay that would currently be graded by no one. Snape's position had not yet been filled, and they had been instructed to continue the assignments they had already been given. Even if it was pointless, she would take it over Potions.

That night, Luna went in to see Riddle with an armload of books that she carried straight back out with her, saying that Riddle had called them too simple for his tastes. Ginny glanced over the titles, which included the library's copy of _Little People, Big Plans_ and a battered old Lockhart book, and secretly agreed with his reluctance to read them. "I'll look for more with you tomorrow," she said, taking part of the stack, "but I have a feeling he's read everything in the library."

"Nothing new, though," Luna said, leading the way down the hall. "He can't have read anything written in the past forty years."

"Oh yeah… I guess we could ask him what he likes?"

"He keeps asking me for things from the Restricted section," Luna answered. "I suspect from the titles that they might poison me at the touch."

"Whatever. He can just read whatever we bring him then."

The the sound of clanking brought an abrupt end to their conversation, for they heard a wheezy voice calling, "Slow down, you scoundrel, you rogue!" and another familiar voice yelling, "Leave me alone, you crazy portrait! I'm Head Boy!" Rounding a corner, they nearly ran headlong with Harper, who was barreling red-faced down the corridor with Sir Cadogan not far in his wake.

With one glance at Harper's harried appearance, Ginny burst out, "Evening, Harper!" and darted past him before she had the chance to erupt in laughter.

"Lovegood," Harper roared as Ginny rounded the next corner. "Do something about this!"

"I really don't see what the problem is," Luna's voice drifted. "I think he's delightful…"

The Common Room was still buzzing with the commotion of a third year Exploding Snap tournament, so Ginny climbed up to her room. One of her housemates had already drawn the drapes around her bed, so the room was silent. Evaline's bed stood strangely empty on the other side of the room, a reminder that nothing wrong at Hogwarts could be fixed by one funny prank. Ginny tried to write her Potions essay before bed again, but set it aside before long. That feeling had returned to the nape of her neck, and as she pulled the covers of her bed up to her chin, Riddle filled her head.

_I have not forgotten_, her mind replayed. _Every hex, every Stun, every broken bone_ – and now, Ginny imagined, every insult and argument. _I will repay tenfold. Tenfold. Every hex, every Stun, every broken bone_. _I have not forgotten_. _Every hex, every Stun, every broken bone. _


	14. Tips of the Fingers

The Difficulties of Avoidance

by dead2self

**A/N: **It's been awhile, hasn't it! I love this story, but sometimes it just won't write. I'm not sure I'm entirely satisfied with the writing in this chapter (where have you heard that before?), but editting is always an option. I would feel bad for holding it back even longer now that its finished. I do, however, enjoy the action of the chapter, and a few strands of plot fell in my lap that I think I'll have some fun with. To make up for my long absence, this chapter is longer than normal! Slight peace offering? To those of you who have reviewed, the completion of this chapter is mostly to your credit. I feel so motivated when I know people are still reading my story! And the email updates remind me that it exists so I open the word document and keep typing. So, thank you so much for your reviews!

* * *

"Do you suppose Tom likes Divination?" Luna asked, holding up a copy of _Predicting the Unpredictable: Insulate Yourself Against Shocks_.

Ginny wrinkled her nose, happy for never having taken the subject. "I'd put my money on him having a Hermione-like attitude towards Divination."

"I myself would guess that he takes it somewhat seriously," Luna answered, placing the book on the feeble stack that floated alongside them. She picked up _Broken Balls: When Fortunes Turn Foul_ and furrowed her brow over whether or not to select it as well. For a brief moment, a certain Prophecy, a specific instance of You-Know-Who's belief in Divination, flashed into Ginny's head. She pushed it stubbornly away and quickly held up _Quidditch Through the Ages_ ironically.

"I think we can both agree he isn't an avid Quidditch fan." Luna propped an eyebrow at her and Ginny shrugged. "Can you imagine him all bundled up in the cold cheering for Slytherin?"

"I suppose not." Luna wandered down another row of shelves, and waved to Ginny with _Prefects Who Gained Power__. _"I'm nearly certain he would like this."

Ginny took the book and thumbed through it. "As long as it doesn't mention You-Know-Who. He was a prefect and he certainly gained power. Actually, we should probably check all these books before we give them to him – we don't want it to slip out on accident anything about You-Know-Who now."

"How much does he already know?" Luna asked.

"I suppose everything I knew up until my first year," Ginny answered. "Maybe more. But it can't hurt to be careful."

Luna nodded, turning her wide eyes back toward the shelf, trailing a finger down it as she walked. Ginny tossed the book onto the stack and followed Luna with a huff. "This is pointless. He isn't going to read half of them, and he certainly won't be thankful for them. The only things we know he likes are too dangerous to give to him."

"What else can we do? We just have to take small steps to get to know him."

Ginny's eyes wandered over the bookshelves that towered over their heads and wondered just how many small steps it would take. Surely Riddle would like at least one book in the Hogwarts library, but it would take decades to go through the entire collection unless you were Hermione. Or, Ginny supposed as she alighted upon an ingenious idea, Tom Riddle.

"Luna, how far back do you think Madam Pince's records go?" she asked, whipping out the Marauders Map. There was Madam Pince, her ink dot solidly at the front desk.

"Rather far, I believe," Luna answered. "I don't see why they would ever erase them.

"Then I need you to get Madam Pince away from her desk. I'm breaking into her office to see _exactly_ what Tom Riddle likes to read."

Luna's eyes grew owlish. "Ginny if she catches you, you'll never set foot in the library again!"

Ginny could not help but laugh. It was not often that her friend showed her Ravenclaw colors so brashly. "There are worse fates," Ginny said, reminding herself vaguely of all her brothers but Percy. "Besides, that's why you need to go distract her." At Luna's wide-eyed look of incredulity, Ginny added, "Do you want to make a bunch of tiny steps or one giant step?"

"It could help…" Luna said uncertainly.

"It'll help. Listen, Fred and George broke into Pince's office their second year – wouldn't let us hear the end of it at Christmas. How hard can it be?"

_Damn Fred and George_, Ginny cursed moments later, nursing the thumb that the doorknob had bitten once Luna had led Madam Pince away from the desk. A simple Freezing Charm silenced the growling doorknob and, apprehensive and wand out, Ginny slipped into the office. As expected, the room was immaculately clean, not a paper out of place on the laboriously stacked desk. Even the books that stood in towering, tottering piles beside the desk looked like they were meant to stand that way.

Not pausing to sightsee, Ginny turned her attention to the wall of ancient wooden filing cabinets. To her shock, they went back much farther than 1945 – she noticed a label claiming records from 1120-1129 AD. Ignoring this, she traced her way along the wall to more modern times, finally locating a drawer for the 1940s. A swift tug on it did nothing, so with a cautious glance at the Marauders Map (Pince and Luna were still wandering on the opposite end of the library), Ginny tapped it with her wand. She narrowly avoided being punched in the gut as the file shot out across the room, taking up its full length. Stowing her wand and the map, she made quick work of scanning through the spindly handwriting. It took two attempts, but she finally emerged with a file boasting Tom Riddle's name. Holding it made her feel oddly powerful – in possession of something that might reveal something about Riddle that he would never tell her himself – but as she opened it hungrily, a piercing shriek filled the office.

"Damn Fred and George!" Ginny shrieked, slamming the file shut to no avail. She dropped it to check the map, where Pince was already flying through the stacks. In a moment of clarity that comes only with desperation, Ginny cried, "_Geminio!_" and snatched up the duplicate folder, praying that it had worked. Keeping low, she dashed out of the office and tore into the corridor. She did not stop to catch her breath until at least two floors were between her and the library.

Chest heaving, she ducked down beside a suit of armor and opened the folder. With a sharp intake of breath, she threw it down on the floor and jammed the heels of her hands into her temples. It was indecipherable, nothing but lines and squiggles.

"It wasn't because of the duplication spell," Luna said, poring over the file when Ginny showed her later. "I helped Madam Pince clean up since I'm Head Girl. The original file was the same – pleasant to know that Hogwarts considers its students' privacy."

"Yeah, bloody brilliant," Ginny snarled. "I risked getting expelled for nothing."

Indeed, over dinner Professor McGonagall had addressed the student body with more than her usual severity about the afternoon's escapade in the library, threatening expulsion to the culprit if they did not come forward. Ginny thought the woman looked drawn tight around the eyes, and suspected she knew to whom the name Tom Riddle belonged. Her stomach sank at causing the professor additional stress, especially when it had yielded no results.

"It didn't seem like Madam Pince had any way of knowing you did it," Luna offered gently. "And this looks like it might just be a code. It could still be useful." She took the offending papers from Ginny and studied them upside-down.

Ginny bit back an exasperated groan and took the plate of food from the house elf that prodded it at her. She noticed with some sourness that Harry's house elf friend had managed to get to the front lines of food prep again.

"Thank you," she said boldly, and the elf mumbled something polite as he shuffled away, the five hats on his head tottering dangerously.

Ginny's turn with Riddle had been uneventful in the morning since he had pointedly ignored her. He had been strangely docile, eating all his food and not once attempting to look her in the eye. Luna, levitating the stack of books they had procured from the library, hoped to be as successful.

"I'll keep these for now," Luna said, sliding the file into her bag. "I would be the last person Madam Pince would search since I was with her the entire time."

Harper was proving difficult to find on the Marauder's Map (it was not quite curfew, and Hogwarts students had the habit of cutting it close in the corridors), but he was not in the seventh floor corridor so they started making their way upstairs. Ginny kept the map out, folded surreptitiously under her arm to check when no students were near. It was just outside the Room of Requirement that she finally spotted Harper – and he was close.

"Luna! Harper!" She met Luna's eyes and both girls had the same thought at once. No doubt Harper would find distinct pleasure in finding Ginny idling alone in the halls so close to curfew.

"Get in!" Luna cried, tossing the books through the door with a wave of her wand. Ginny dove in after them, barely avoiding catching her robe in the door as Luna slammed it shut. Riddle eyed her with evident surprise as she collected her wits, but said nothing. It seemed things would be going in the same vein as the morning visit.

"Dinner," she called unnecessarily, setting the plate down on his table. Riddle, however, had moved behind her, and was studying a piece of parchment that had fallen among the books. It took Ginny, in hindsight, painfully long to realize what he held.

With a cry, she lunged to snatch the map out of his hands, but he danced out of her reach, eyes scouring hungrily over the parchment. Then, whipping out her wand, Ginny said, "_Accio Marauder's Map_!" Riddle snarled as it slipped from his fingers, and Ginny caught the map deftly.

"M-Mischief managed!" she said, and the map went blank. She tucked it into her robes.

A terrible grin spread on Riddle's face as he moved toward his dinner. "Indeed."

Now Ginny was silent, berating herself as she watched him eat. Could anyone he had seen on the Map make any difference to what he knew? Would he suspect about Dumbledore if he had seen McGonagall in the Headmaster's office? Ginny just could not believe she had been so _stupid_, especially after – but she didn't want to think about his empty threats. What could he do to her, really, without a wand? She tightened her grip and levitated the books from where they had fallen.

"We brought more books for you," Ginny said. The words tumbled out shamefully fast and she took care to dial back her nerves after a deep breath. "So maybe something will interest you." He sat bent over his food, silent. She added, "Luna thinks you might fancy Divination, but I thought you'd think it's rubbish. Which is it?"

He did not look at her, but said, "I see no need to satisfy your curiosity. You may place the books with the others."

Scowling at the fact that their two-hour search of the library had come to nothing, Ginny dumped the books unceremoniously on the bookshelf. "Those are library books. If you don't want to read them, we have to take them back."

"I am well aware of how the Hogwarts library functions."

Well, Ginny already knew that. Even garbled, it was clear that Riddle's library record was astonishingly long.

The silence stretched until Riddle was finished eating and mercifully, she was able to send off her Patronus. She waited, but after several minutes, Luna's Patronus still had not hopped through the door.

"_Harper_," Ginny sighed, planting a hand on her hip. She shot Riddle a look and added, "Our pain-in-the-ass Slytherin Head Boy. You'd love him, I'm sure."

Riddle raised an eyebrow. She sat down against the door, somewhat thankful for the one-sided dialogue.

"Merlin, you probably _were_ him. I can just picture you terrorizing Gryffindor first-years by bullying them into cursed contracts too."

To her surprise, this galvanized Riddle into conversation. "Hardly. I have prefects to deal with the Gryffindors who lack the necessary discretion. I may have been given the honor of Head Boy, but I have more important things to do with my time than enforce archaic rules I flout myself."

"Brilliant," Ginny muttered. "I'm glad being Head Boy just gave you more time to dabble in the Dark Arts."

If he heard her, he gave no indication. "What are you doing now?" Riddle asked as she began rummaging in her bag.

"Homework," Ginny answered, keeping her voice clipped. "At the rate Harper can ramble, it could be awhile before Luna gets away. I have a Potions essay due tomorrow." Spreading a wide array of Potions books around her on the floor, Ginny settled down against the door and pointedly ignored Riddle as she set to work on her essay.

Soon, Ginny was aware that Riddle was standing above her, reading over her work. "Do you mind?" she asked, her mind going immediately to the Marauders' Map tucked deep inside her bag. She pulled it closer.

"Are you dismal in every subject, or just Potions?"

"I'm not even _making_ a Potion; I'm just writing about them. How could you possibly be able to tell if I'm good or bad at it?"

"Because your grasp of theory and the basic Laws is elementary at best."

"I'm just following the textbook. Maybe your theories are out of date."

"It is impossible for Potions theory to change so drastically in only fifty years, and it would take a cataclysmic event to disprove any of the Laws. I find it far more likely that you are parroting information and misunderstanding it."

"Then why don't you just _tell_ me what I'm doing wrong instead of standing there?"

"I doubt there's anything I can say that you haven't already heard from your professors. It has been my experience that some people are just hopeless."

Rolling her eyes, Ginny eyed the length of her essay. It looked like she had one foot finished and two to go. She dipped her quill and no sooner had she written another inch than Riddle gave a disapproving hum. She threw her quill down.

"If it's that important to you, why don't you just write it for me yourself?"

"Oh, but that would be cheating," he said in an overly sweet tone she had never heard him use before. She suspected he was trying to imitate her.

"Some Dark Lord you are," she scoffed. "Can't even cheat on a seventh year Potions essay."

Riddle's eyes lost the nasty twinkle at her expense. Instead, he eyed her with obvious distain. "You say that as if I subscribe to your petty morality. Mark this, Weasley. There is neither good nor evil, merely power, a quality that, as the Dark Lord, I possess. In any case, there is no reason for me to help you. There is nothing I want that you would be willing to give me."

"Try me."

"A wand."

Ginny raised a brow, but her fingers found her own wand in her pocket. "Are you trying to make a joke?"

"No," he deadpanned, but it veered into a smile. "A book on wandlore then."

"A book? Seriously?"

"Lovegood has been hounding me for days about reading material. Is this not what you wanted? Would you rather I ask for another look at your delightful map?"

Ginny's stomach lurched, and she knew he was goading her. Time to end the conversation. "Why don't you tell her then?" she answered sourly. Riddle remained quiet, so she shook her head. "I don't even know why we're talking about this. I don't need help on my Potions essay. Leave me alone so I can write another foot."

The unsettled feeling did not subside until well after she had left the room, and only then did she realize that Riddle had given her exactly what she wanted all along – just like he had said. Somehow, the fact that he was right made her reluctant to tell Luna about his book request, just out of spite. When Luna went back to decoding Riddle's old library records, Ginny excused herself to finish her essay.

Luna was less concerned about the gaff with the Marauders' Map than Ginny. "If he knew Dumbledore was dead, he would have wrestled you to the floor for your wand just then," she had said offhand after finally releasing Ginny from the room. But where Luna was nonchalant, Ginny saw potential disaster. Between worrying who he might have seen on the map and who he had not seen, she was lucky to grind out the full three feet required for her essay. She even sat stock straight in her bed after drifting off to sleep because she had to make sure that he had not found a way to snatch it out of her bag. She was only able to sleep after folding the map under her pillow.

The next day's classes found her groggy and prone to staring out windows. She fell asleep on top of her Defense manual during their self-taught period, and McGonagall had to shake her awake to take points from Gryffindor. However, snow had fallen overnight, blanketing the grounds under an unusually bright day. Her lethargy was nothing a day outside in the brisk winter air could not handle, and a snowball fight with her old Quidditch team put her in such high spirits that she imagined Luna was right about Riddle and the map. Instead, as she trundled toward the lake to meet Luna, she puzzled over Riddle's request for a book.

Luna was busy studying Tom Riddle's library file in the reflection off the lake. She had charmed them into the pages of an old battered notebook to disguise the stolen records, and was currently convinced that the magical properties of the lake might somehow transform the letters. Unconvinced that the lake even had magical properties to begin with, Ginny had nevertheless agreed to accompany her. Watching Luna labor fruitlessly over the pages, tattered Spectrespecs balancing at the tip of her nose, almost brought her to admit that Riddle had finally asked for a book, but she spotted Harper laboring toward them before she had a chance. She nudged Luna, who noted him with a huff, marked her place with her glasses, and stowed the book.

"Good afternoo—" she started, but Harper broke over her before the greeting could escape.

"What exactly have you been saying about me, Lovegood? _Weasley_?" His breath showed in furious puffs, floating in the sharp air, but his eyes kept darting over his shoulder.

"We haven't said anything about you Harper," Ginny answered. "Why should we?"

"Oh yes you have. I have it from several sources that this—this—" Words seemed to fail him, until, "—this travesty of a rumor came straight from you!"

"What rumors?" Ginny asked and Harper's mouth worked soundlessly, sputtering out something like, "Me—Looney—are—"

"You and Luna are _what?_ Not strict enough reformers? Spit it out Harper!"

While Harper still labored against the words, a small "Oh!" erupted from Luna and her hands shot over her mouth. She turned wide eyes on Ginny, and for a moment looked like she was about to laugh.

"Will someone _please_ tell me what is going on?"

"Rumors that Tom and I are dating, Ginny," Luna said, her voice now clear of laughter. At Ginny's incredulous look, she motioned to Harper. "You know, Thomsen Harper – Tom."

While she admired Luna's restraint, Ginny could not hold back the gale of laughter that overtook her. Clutching at her sides and pointing weakly between the pair of them, she gasped out, "You and _him_?"

"This is not a humorous situation, Weasley," Harper snapped, though he was pink to his ears, and not with cold.

"Maybe for someone with no sense of humor," Ginny wheezed.

Harper wheeled on Luna, tripping over his words as Ginny guffawed into her scarf. "Lovegood, even you must agree that we—that we must maintain a level of decorum and—and respect among the student population, do you not?"

"It is only a rumor, Harper," said Luna serenely. "People spread all sorts of rumors about me. With some practice, you will find them quite easy to ignore."

"I do not want to _practice_, Lovegood. I will not have my reputation smeared with any more association with you than need be."

Luna's mouth thinned and she went barely pink. Ginny stepped between the pair, her mirth forgotten. Instead, she dearly wished she could hex Harper into the lake. "What is that supposed to mean?" she asked.

"I trust you can piece it together," Harper sneered.

"Ginny, please," Luna said, putting a hand on her shoulder. Her voice was void of its dreamy quality, and in once glance Ginny knew that this Tom would be no match after several months of dealing with their Tom. Harper met her eyes, but he shifted back on his heels. "I need a private word with the Head Boy."

"Alright," Ginny said, backing away from the pair. It appeared Luna did not need an overabundance of privacy, for Ginny had gotten only two steps before her friend started berating Harper for his reaction to the rumor. As she trundled up to the castle, Harper was treated to a lengthy lecture on the importance of self-esteem and disregarding the unmerited opinions of others.

Ginny thought he looked properly mollified when she spotted him in the Great Hall later, but his ire had not abated toward her. Ginny and Luna had arranged to meet in front of the Room of Requirement, Ginny fetching the food alone so that Luna could meet with Flitwick about her NEWT progress. Harper was hard on her heels as she left the Great Hall, hanging back but no doubt waiting for an opportunity to take points. Hoping to shake his interest, she paused in front of Slughorn's office, only to be surprised when the door opened and Astoria Greengrass shuffled out.

"Brilliant, Miss Greengrass, just smashing. Do remind me to put you in contact with Derwent Shimpling. He does love his jokes, but he's a smart one—er, relatively." Ginny jumped back to make way for the pair of them, but Slughorn had already caught sight of her.

"Ah, Miss Weasley, this is convenient. I meant to have a word with you about your Potions essay after class, but now will do nicely. Do come in."

Harper moved slowly past them, nodding to Slughorn, and Ginny could think of no excuse before she was ushered inside. She scuffed her feet as Slughorn waddled in front of her, moving through the potions classroom into Slughorn's office. She had served several detentions here with Snape, but the room had acquired quite a bit more velvet since its previous occupant vacated the Potions post. A potion was brewing in the corner, giving off a burnt sugar smell, and altogether the dungeon room managed to look brighter, if a bit stuffy.

"Please have a seat, Miss Weasley. I wanted to speak with you about your most recent essay." Ginny's heart clenched and she lowered herself into a velvet armchair facing Slughorn's desk as he continued. "It is worryingly below your normal standards."

"Oh," she breathed, then pushed her lips together. Hang her Potions NEWT – that was hardly important at the moment. It stung less that Slughorn disliked the essay than the fact that Riddle had been right.

"This has no doubt been a troubling time, Miss Weasley," he continued. "I understand that schoolwork is likely not your first concern at the moment." He paused, unblinking behind his mustache, and then coughed. "You and the Headmaster were close, I believe?"

The question caught Ginny oddly off-center. "Er, he knew Harry well," she answered. "I've always, you know—I admired him, sir. We all did."

"Of course, of course," Slughorn said, nodding magnanimously. There was a heartbeat's rest, and then, "And your parents were well acquainted as well? Dumbledore did speak highly of your mother's roast beef."

Ginny shifted in the seat, watching her professor with a newly critical eye. "Yeah, it's good, sir," she said.

"No doubt your parents are worried. They must write to you, naturally, to tell you of news from home."

"Not any more than usual," she said. "I've—We've all been busy."

Slughorn surged forward in his seat, nodding sharply. "Yes, yes, very busy. Dumbledore left many shoes to fill, did he not?"

Sensing that this conversation could lead nowhere safe, she hastened to interject, "Sir, you wanted to talk about my essay?"

As Slughorn settled back, she imagined he looked disappointed. He propped his fingers in his bulging waistcoat. "Yes, Miss Weasley, I did. It was quite distracted, with hardly two lines properly dedicated to the topic you were assigned to discuss. Nonetheless, you are a student with great potential, and I would be remiss if I did not encourage you to your full capacity."

"Yes, sir, I'm sorry," she answered automatically. Her legs itched to move, thinking of Luna waiting on the seventh floor.

"I have never known you to be a particularly lazy student, Miss Weasley, so I can only surmise that you have… gotten yourself in over your head, so to speak. If you are burdened with extracurriculars or… various _side projects_… do know that all the staff is available to assist you."

Ginny froze for the barest of seconds. _Did he just—_ But her mouth tumbled quickly into action, playing an unwilling trump card. "No it's nothing like that, sir. It's just…" She willed tears, a trick she had picked up at an early age with six brothers. "It's Harry, sir. We just broke up." She threw in a decent sob for good measure. Professor Slughorn looked faintly horrified, which Ginny thought might be the best thing to result from Rita Skeeter's thrice-damned article. He patted haltingly her with a cumbersome paw of a hand, tinged red around his mustache.

"Er, there, there," he said. "It is quite alright, Miss Weasley. I am prepared to allow you to re-write your essay, if you wish."

"Th-Thank you," blubbered Ginny, and found herself soon hustled out of his office, marked essay in hand. She turned toward the kitchen on shaky legs as she scrubbed at her tearstained cheeks.

Ginny did not know much about Professor Slughorn, but the interview had left a knot in the pit of her stomach. She did not pretend to know every member of the Order, but she had spent her fair share of time in 12 Grimmauld Place, and she had seen the old photographs. Slughorn, despite being a friend of Dumbledore, had not been in any of them.

_And Dumbledore's trust wasn't always well-placed_. The thought came unbidden, with a flash of Bill prone on the floor. Ginny swallowed, pushing away the image. Bill was fine, she reminded herself. She busied herself with Riddle's meal and helped herself to a biscuit for good measure.

It was getting close to curfew now, and Harper dogged her footsteps by the time she got up to the second floor. She managed to lose him by doubling back towards Gryffindor tower and timing the moving staircase just right. When she reached the seventh floor, she was dismayed to realize that Luna was not waiting there. Knowing an encounter with Harper tonight might put Gryffindor beyond hope for the House Cup, she decided not to risk it and let herself into the Room. Mind swimming, it was easy to ignore the tiresome routine of giving their sullen captive his food. It seemed that every thread of her life was converging in one giant tangle. Harper was more paranoid than ever. She could not give Slughorn any more reason to believe she was… well, whatever he had been fishing to find out. But then, with all her other NEWTs and Riddle to placate, how in the world would she be able to produce even a passable essay? She had thought her first attempt was good enough—damn Riddle for being right. And then there was the library records, and Riddle's request for a book that still niggled at the back of her mind.

A thought struck Ginny. Riddle was a proud bloke, one not likely to appreciate charity. What he probably did appreciate was an exchange, one that would smooth out most of the knot if she played things right.

"I failed my potions essay," she blurted out before common sense had a chance to settle.

"Rightly so," Riddle murmured without facing her.

Ginny wandered closer, fingering the essay in her bag. "My professor was asking about why my work has been so bad."

"He did not assume it was your poor intelligence?" Riddle still did not look up, but Ginny swore she saw him roll his eyes.

Planting both feet beside his chair, she leaned closer. "The reason I haven't been focusing on school is because I've been taking care of _you_."

Now Riddle shot a blazing glance at her, so fast that she stumbled back to keep from catching his eye. "So I am a secret? Fascinating."

Ginny bit her lip before she could compose herself, and then there was no use saying otherwise. She measured her words to answer truthfully. "We can't trust everyone," she said. "If certain people find out, there's a chance you won't get fed at all."

Mirth blossomed on his face, and he lounged back in the chair. "Marvelous threat, Weasley."

"It isn't a threat. You know I'm telling the truth."

"Then I am at the mercy of your potion grades?" He propped his feet on the table. "My, this _is_ a dire situation."

Ignoring the sarcastic note, she stepped closer to him, dropping the roll of parchment into his lap. "It's an easy fix. You want a wandlore book, right? You'll edit my potions essay for me, help me understand it, and I'll get you whatever book on wandlore you want."

His eyes slid over her work and he frowned. "Edit it? Such atrocity would require me to start from scratch." Ginny dug in her bag for a quill and inkwell, sensing victory, and handed them to Riddle.

"Write me a new essay for all I care. You have the better side of the deal – both a new book and the chance to keep eating every day. I'll bring the book tomorrow morning, and if that's finished, you can have it."

Silently, Riddle scratched out the title of a book on the corner of her essay and ripped it off for her. Waving her off, he began to apply liberal amounts of ink to the margins of her essay, crossing out generous portions of her hard work. She left him parchment and sent off her Patronus. This would mean an early-morning trip to the library.

The morning brought low light and the threat of another snowfall, not one that encouraged Ginny to wake early. But before breakfast and before Luna's turn to take care of Riddle, Ginny did just that. She skirted past the Grey Lady just outside the library and got a chilled stare for her trouble.

"Sorry for interrupting your morning haunt," Ginny grumbled once she was probably out of hearing.

It took some time to locate Riddle's book, as it was buried in a dusty corner of the library. It was a thin volume, but the length of Ginny's arm. A quick scan showed it full of sketches, wand cross-sections and various wand cores. Its margins were sparse with commentary in spindled script. The book stuck awkwardly out of her pack, but she tucked it under her arm while she walked. Once out of the library, she managed to shrink it down to a manageable size. Doubtless such an act would give Madam Pince a conniption, but it was not her worst library crime of late.

That night as they collected Riddle's meal, Ginny felt oddly eager. No doubt she was excited to be rid of two annoyances in one go. It was not, she reprimanded herself, anticipation for one giant step forward in their plan to convert Tom Riddle. Still, she could not repress a shock of delight when Riddle rose to meet her, essay in hand and somewhat civil in passing it to her. The moment lasted until he opened his mouth.

"Atrocious. I tried the best I could while retaining your juvenile voice."

"Blimey!" Her first thought was that he had replicated her handwriting to an eerie degree. Then, as she looked closer, her admiration slipped. She fixed him with a frown. "I know how to _spell_, Riddle,"

Riddle took his plate from her, digging in where he stood. "That was not abundantly clear in your first attempt," he said around a mouthful of sprouts.

Ginny finished her hasty perusal of the essay and proceeded to slap him on the shoulder with it. "This doesn't sound like me at all!"

"Indeed," he said, waving her off. "The ideas I expressed are coherent and well within the bounds of logic and fact."

"Oh, shut it. I'll have to write this all over again, won't I?"

"Nonetheless, I upheld my end of the bargain, Weasley. Where is yours?"

Huffing, Ginny pulled the shrunken book from her pack and returned it to its original size. "What do you even want a book on wandlore for?" she asked as she handed over the slim volume. "Are you going to try to whittle down one of your chair legs?" As she said it, she had brief sweep of fear that it might be possible.

Riddle paged through the book, already reading hungrily. It seemed he was able to multitask. "This may come as a shock, Weasley, but some of us enjoy reading merely for the pleasure of learning new things."

Ginny doubted that he cared so much for the learning itself as for what he could do with any newfound knowledge, but didn't say so. Instead, a curious thought formed in her head. She had not told Luna about his book request, but neither had he. Thinking out loud, she answered, "If that's why you wanted to read it, you would have asked Luna for the book in the first place."

"If I had asked Luna, she would already know why I wanted the book." Glancing up from the book, Riddle's eyes glittered and she fought back a shiver.

"You think I won't tell her now?"

"I _know _you won't tell her now," Riddle said. "She's Head Girl, isn't she? You're not the type to put her in the position of choosing between your friendship and her duties, are you?"

Ginny was not about to tell him that she had already done so several times. But despite numerous opportunities to ask Luna what Riddle might want with a wandlore book, she could not bring herself to do it. Once again, Riddle had been right about her – but not entirely. Somewhere deep down, she remembered her clandestine friendship with Riddle, the excitement and intimacy of something hidden. It was only a potions essay and a wandlore book, but if she had any hope of reimagining Riddle as someone other than her enemy – _every hex_, played the voice at the nape of her neck – maybe she had to reclaim what little joy she had found in him in her first year.

Or else she really did not want to tell a Ravenclaw that she was having Tom Riddle write her next potions essay.


	15. Palm of the Hand

The Difficulties of Avoidance

by dead2self

**A/N: **This chapter wrote itself pretty quickly, and although I'm not entirely pleased with its pacing - here you go!

* * *

Ginny had not forgotten the origins of the rumor concerning Luna and Harper, and she took full advantage of the newfound information. The next few days she spoke about Tom a bit louder than usual, and enjoyed all sorts of uproarious rumors as a result. If Luna suspected Ginny's intentions, she did not say anything. In the end, rumors including Ginny in a love triangle with the Head Boy and Girl shut her up. She need not have worried; the headlines of the _Daily Prophet_ at breakfast soon overtook the attention of the entire school.

"You'd think Dumbledore died just for spite! All this rot about disrupting classes…" Ginny grumbled to Colin Creevey. Colin was reading the article over her shoulder, his mouth growing thinner as he went.

"Do you think Professor McGonagall really said this?" he asked, pointing to a quote. Ginny glanced over it again, her stomach clenching: "In the wake of Dumbledore's… death, yes, it has been difficult to sufficiently teach."

"Not a chance," Ginny clucked. "You know McGonagall. It's just fourth year all over again. The Ministry wants control over the school because they're scared. They'll say anything." Recalling her conversation with McGonagall about sending letters, she half-wondered if it was just the Ministry.

Indeed, the scathing article about academic instability at Hogwarts following Dumbledore's death did its best to undercut McGonagall's temporary post as Headmistress, calling for different, "more steady" leadership. Ginny could hardly think of a person who better embodied steadiness, and had half a mind to write the editor herself. Still, it was hard to direct all her frustration straight at the article when it was Harper who featured most prominently in it. Now that Dumbledore was dead, he seemed to have no problem criticizing the former Headmaster's policies. Foremost on his list was Dumbledore's lenient treatment of students carousing after hours and flouting new discipline regimens. Ginny had no illusions about whom he was speaking.

Across the table, Dennis was paging through their copy of the _Prophet_. Colin asked for hers and he started reading from the back page of the newspaper. He was quick to point out Bill and Fleur's wedding announcement to her.

"Yeah, they're having it over Easter break and I got permission to leave school. I wanted to kill Fleur for forgetting about my N.E.W.T.s but, 'it eez such a beautiful time of zee year'."

"I take it the sabotaging didn't work then?" chuckled Colin.

"No," groaned Ginny. "What's worse is now Mum loves her too, after Bill—" She cut off, remembering stomping on Riddle's fingers at undoubtedly the same time that Fleur finally won over her mother. It was not a night she wanted to talk about just yet, least of all with Colin. She offered him a light shrug. "Well, she's alright, I guess. They've stuck together this long."

Dennis squeaked suddenly and his head emerged over his unfurled paper.

"Did you see this bit?" he asked, turning around the paper to a picture of Diagon Alley that looked not quite right. Frowning, Ginny leaned closer and she realized that it looked emptier than she had ever seen it. And Ollivander's shop was boarded up.

"What happened?" she asked, ripping her newspaper out of Colin's hands to read it herself.

"It looks like Y-You-Know-Who got Mr. Ollivander," Dennis gulped. Looking up, Ginny saw that he was white. It was strange; being around the Order meant that Voldemort had always been at the forefront of her mind. She did not hear a lot, but sometimes she overheard little things when she was home, like a wizard disappearing or Remus tracking a werewolf. She forgot that for everyone else, Voldemort seemed to have vanished for nearly three years.

Ginny noticed that the Creevey brothers were fixated on her, like she was the one with answers, and she hastened to leave. Stuffing her newspaper haphazardly into her bag, she eyed Harper standing up at the Slytherin table. His focus was on Luna, but Ginny got to her first, looping her friend's arm and manhandling her out of the Great Hall.

"You need to read this," she said, poking at the newspaper. Out of loyalty to the family business, Luna did not subscribe to the _Prophet_.

"I already did," said Luna. Her voice betrayed a slight tremor, one that surprised Ginny until she realized it might be anger. Luna's face was pink. "Orla Quirke let me borrow her copy. Thomson Harper is the most insufferable boy I have ever met."

"No arguments here. But we need to talk." Something about Ollivander's boarded store had rattled her, as had the white faces of students around her as they remembered that they were at war. Quickly, she recounted her meeting with Slughorn. Luna stayed quiet throughout, listening carefully.

"He can't know anything about… you know," she said when Ginny was through. "He can't have. It seems to me that he wanted information about the Order."

Ginny felt a surge of pride for her friend – for surely this was the case. Luna saw through people with such clarity; how could she be wrong?

"Do you think he's a—" Ginny glanced about them and lowered her voice. "A Death Eater?"

Luna twisted a strand of hair around her wand and bit her lip. "I don't think he seems the type, but we cannot be sure."

"I'll talk to McGonagall. I have to talk with her about my N.E.W.T.s anyhow. She should know that he's asking about the Order."

Luna nodded. "What about you? What will you do?"

Lost, Ginny shot a quizzical glance at her. "What about me?"

"Your potions essay. You shouldn't give Slughorn any more reasons to talk to you. Do you need any help?"

For a split second, Ginny's heart lurched. She had turned in the essay – her rewrite of Riddle's comical essay – and it had promptly slipped from her mind. Ginny pictured Luna's numerous potions accidents – her hair had grown back, but she had sported that rough haircut well into Christmas holiday – and decided that having her as a partner was enough of a trial. "I've got it worked out," she answered. "I've already got the essay rewritten."

But Luna was right. If she wanted to keep out of Slughorn's crosshairs, she needed to do more than hand in a brilliant essay.

"You did not hold up your end of the deal," Ginny announced when she dropped Riddle's food on the table that night.

"Oh?" Riddle picked up a dinner roll and even his chewing looked humored.

"That's right. Our deal was that I would give you the book if you wrote the essay and explained it to me. Don't think you're getting out of it."

"I only hoped that you were releasing me from the obligation."

"Not likely," she answered, hefting _Advanced Potion-Making_ onto the table and taking a seat next to it. She caught him eying it and retorted, "I'm sorry I don't have it memorized."

"Nor do I," said Riddle, flipping through the first few pages. "This has been edited since my time." Joining her on the floor, he began scanning the book in earnest.

"Don't get distracted, Riddle. We need to talk about poisons."

"Delightful," he said as Ginny tugged the book away and turned to the appropriate section.

"_Antidotes_," she clarified. "We've been working with Golpalott's Laws. You said Laws couldn't change, right?"

"Indeed. Golpalott's Laws have held true since the mid-fifteenth century when they were composed." His mouth turned down in clear disapproval that she did not know this, but an interesting change in his voice turned Ginny's head. It had taken on an upward tilt, an effect that left it more neutral than contemptuous. The distaste was still there, but dampened.

Curious, Ginny pulled out the spare essay, riddled with spelling errors, and spread it between them. Tamping down the corners with odds and ends from her bag, she launched into what was her understanding of the essay's argument. She had gotten not three inches into the essay before Riddle was correcting her for insignificant technicalities, each one attached to an attack on her intelligence. As she ground her teeth in silence, she reasoned that she had imagined the change.

Ginny got one foot farther before Riddle brushed her off entirely and launched into a lengthy explanation of inverse poisons. She sat up straighter then, because his neutral tone was back. While he was talking about potions, he was not insulting her or plotting murder behind his eyes. He was just talking. It was only when she forgot to listen and could not repeat the theory when his lip curled at her and he bemoaned the impossibility of teaching her anything. Ginny sniped back, insinuating teaching might not be his gift, but in the end she understood the essay.

Ginny was rightly smug. She was not bad at Potions, after all; she was just busy.

"Well that's our deal finished," she said, stretching her hands high over her head when they were done.

"_Finally_," drawled Riddle.

Ginny rolled her eyes and gathered up her potions manual and spare inkwells from the table. She felt the beginnings of a headache and was starting to wonder if losing Slughorn's interest would be worth doing this on a regular basis – if she could convince Riddle at all.

"You can't expect to fool this Potions master on your own." Ginny jumped and stared up at him. Riddle had perched on the edge of his chair, balancing carefully so he would not sink into the plush.

"I'm not hopeless at Potions, Riddle. I got an Exceeds Expectations on my OWL, didn't I?" The words tumbled out before she could stop them, and immediately Ginny felt foolish. He was offering exactly what she wanted.

"Be reasonable, Weasley." His eyes were dark and he stared straight at her for the first time that night. "It's the least I can do after causing you such an inconvenience."

His tone ran a shudder up her spine, so she stood. Height felt like leverage. "What do you want?"

"A small favor. The chair."

Ginny noted the patches in the fabric and recalled that Riddle hated that chair. Easy enough. "Deal. What can I do about the chair?"

"Give me your wand."

Ginny drew her wand if only to be sure it was in her hand. "It wasn't funny last time, Riddle."

Riddle's face twisted into something ugly and he rose too. "I can't kill you under your precious Headmaster's crooked nose and even if I did, it's not as if I could produce your Patronus to leave the Room. I just want to fix the damn chair."

"_No_. I'm good at Transfiguration. Just tell me what kind of chair you want."

Riddle glared until it was clear Ginny would not step down. Finally, with an air of resignation, he ground out, "Wooden, high backed."

Ginny Transfigured the chair, although the first attempt was pronounced "too rickety" by Riddle, and the second "too short" for his long legs. She re-Transfigured the chair to his specifications until Riddle sat down in the chair, scowling, but unable to find any more specific faults.

"What is it now?" Ginny seethed, gripping her wand more tightly in an attempt to keep from hexing him. A visit this long was taxing her restraint.

Riddle clutched the armrests of the plain brown chair. "It is just too ordinary for my taste."

"It's a _chair_, Riddle, all you have to do is sit in it. I'm sorry I don't have enough time to make it aesthetically pleasing for you too." When he would not reply, Ginny huffed and shot off her Patronus.

"Leave the Potions manual," he said, holding out a hand. "I need to acquaint myself with new developments to be of any use." When she hesitated, he gave her a nasty conspiratorial grin. "I'll tell Lovegood I swiped it from your bag."

"She'll get you your own if you'd just ask," said Ginny, and Luna's rabbit unlocked the door. She tossed him the book.

"I fixed his chair," she sighed when Luna asked what had taken so long.

"Oh that's brilliant!" Luna cried. "Did he ask you to?"

"Yeah, he did."

"See, Ginny? Little steps at a time!"

Ginny nodded weakly and complained of a headache to escape to Gryffindor Tower. In the morning, Luna emerged from the Room of Requirement carrying Ginny's Potions manual.

"He asked for a book!" Luna crowed. "Well, he stole yours first, but I'm going to get him his own."

"That's great, Luna!" Ginny answered, keeping her smile straight as she tucked her book into her bag.

"And he seemed quite satisfied with his chair, though I can't imagine it's comfortable."

Feeling a surprising amount of pride, Ginny showed it with a shrug. "I just did what he wanted."

Luna and Ginny split ways for breakfast and Ginny was walking to class with Gregory Jones when a commotion in the Entrance Hall arrested their attention. A crate rested by the door and Madam Pince stood nearly nose-to-nose with a wizard in Ministry robes, waving a book in agitation. Dumbledore winked at the gathering students from its cover.

"I will not tolerate this—this drivel!" cried Madam Pince. "I don't care if the Ministry wants to donate a million copies. As long as I am librarian, this travesty of a biography will not touch the shelves of Hogwarts' library!" And then to the shock of every student milling in the Great Hall, Madam Pince waved her wand at the crate of books, crying, "_Incendio!_"

Ginny let out a cheer as Madam Pince cast the remaining copy onto the fire, while the Ministry wizard scrambled out of the castle. Some students, however, watched Madam Pince mount the stairs back to the library like she was stark mad.

"What was that about?" asked Gregory.

"Must be Rita Skeeter's new book. And if I know her, it's a load of lies."

Unfortunately, Madam Pince's actions assured that Rita Skeeter's _The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore_ arrived at Hogwarts in droves by owl post the next morning. Ginny blanched at a copy at the Ravenclaw table over Luna's shoulder when McGonagall approached her from the Head Table.

"Is this true Professor?" Ginny called. "The bit about Dumbledore and Muggles?"

The question arrested McGonagall mid-step and her brow dipped sharply. "Certainly not," the professor huffed. "Rita Skeeter has skewed the details significantly." Her features softened as she realized she commanded the attention of the entire Ravenclaw table and some nearby Hufflepuffs. "Many years ago, in a moment of personal distress, Professor Dumbledore shared with me some of his family history. No man is perfect, Miss Weasley, but I assure you that the Headmaster learned from his mistakes. There never was a more tireless advocate for Muggle rights. People would do well to remember _that _rather than place too much trust in Miss Skeeter's flawed account." She leveled a strict gaze down the length of the Ravenclaw table, and then returned her attention to Ginny.

"Miss Weasley, our appointment to discuss your N.E.W.T. progress will be tomorrow following your final class. Do not dally on your way." Professor McGonagall swept away, leaving murmurs about Dumbledore in her wake. For her part, Ginny took the professor at her word and pronounced the biography rubbish to anyone who would listen.

During Potions, Luna kindly acted as a buffer between Ginny and Slughorn. They left class with another essay due in a few days time, and Ginny had the makings for another Potions lesson with Riddle. She was determined to identify what triggered his somewhat civil behavior.

That night, she gave Riddle his dinner and immediately spread her Potions notes before them on the table. She sat on the floor and Riddle sneered at her from his new, wooden chair.

"Quite the taskmaster, Weasley. Can't I eat first?"

Ginny waved him on with a roll of her eyes. He ate in silence, and once she had unnecessarily organized her notes twice, she watched him. His hair had gotten long. It fell in his eyes and straggled down his back – he was nearly unrecognizable from her first year. If any of her brothers had shown up at the Burrow like that, her mother would have had a fit. At least Bill kept his trimmed.

As she stared at Riddle, quite without meaning to, she made a pair of scissors appear on the table. Riddle noticed them when she did and raised an eyebrow. "Odd choice of weapon, but then you _are_ a blood traitor."

Ignoring him, Ginny snatched them up and moved behind him. "Hold still. I can't stand this anymore; I'm giving you a haircut." She ran her fingers through his hair, judging the length, and was hit with a strong reminder of Harry that she pushed stubbornly away.

"Who do you think I have to impress in here?" Without answering, Ginny took a chunk of hair, ran it through her fingers, and started snipping the ends.

"What are you doing to it? It's fine how it was."

"Do you want to look like you're from this decade? Stop squirming or I'll—oops." A chunk of hair rather larger than she had intended drifted to the ground and Tom made to stand up.

"That's it; get out Weasley!"

"I've cut my brothers' hair for ages! I wouldn't mess up if you didn't keep moving about!" She placed her hands on his shoulders and shoved him roughly back into the seat. "Sit still and I'll fix it."

When she was done it was shorter than she had intended, but Ginny was pleased with herself. She walked around in front of him and leaned in to survey her work, absently brushing some of the hair clippings from his face. Riddle sneered at the sudden touch and, when she realized what she had done, Ginny recoiled as well.

"I-It looks fine," she stammered. "We won't have to cut it again for awhile."

"Please restrain yourself, Weasley," Riddle hissed. "Perhaps Potter could stomach you, but I don't tend toward filth."

"The purity references are getting a little tired, Riddle. You can thank me that you no longer look like a homeless lay-about." She Vanished the hair clippings from the ground. "And now we can call us even for the next Potions lesson."

"I did not agree to this."

"Then call it a favor. I honestly couldn't look at you any longer with your hair like that."

Tom narrowed his eyes at her and then lowered himself to the floor. "Very well. Shall we begin?" This time she allowed him to launch straight into a lecture on antidotes for combined poisons. She found that when she interrupted less and let him recite tiresome facts, he adopted the less predatory tone. Now, however, she detected a strain of superiority in it. Perhaps he fancied himself a good teacher. Watching him lecture with a stray clipping still clinging to his cheek, she supposed he was. Until she opened her mouth and he was back to being an insufferable git.

Ginny left the Room of Requirement bursting to tell Luna that she was getting better at this Riddle thing, and ran headlong into a figure standing with their back to the door.

"Merlin's beard!" yelped Harper, spinning around so quickly that Ginny nearly got a wand to the eye.

"Merlin's beard yourself!" Ginny cried, slapping the wand away from her face.

"Where did you come from?" Harper was casting about the corridor and for a terrifying moment Ginny wondered if he had heard the door open or click shut. What if he felt for the invisible handle?

"Just around the corner!" she said, trying to sound blasé. "Come off it, Harper; I'm with Luna, aren't I?"

Harper went a nasty hue of red, and he stowed his wand in his robes before stabbing a finger at Luna. "This is precisely what I mean. It has gone on for far too long. You can't keep flouting rules."

"I am not flouting rules," said Luna. "Dumbledore didn't mind." The candlelight made Luna look pale, and her eyes bulged. Ginny wondered suddenly if they had already been fighting while she was in the Room.

"We'll see about that, Lovegood. Things are going to change around here!"

"I do not understand why you insist on being the most restrictive, single-minded, _dull_ boy I have ever met! As little as it matters, you will never go down in history as Hogwart's greatest Head Boy by calling bullying discipline."

"You—are—deliberately—breaking—rules. You are _flinging_ _filth_ in the face of tradition! For Merlin's sake, Lovegood, every time I talk to you, you're making up some new Mystical Creature!"

"Just because you're so narrow-minded—"

"Get her back to Gryffindor Tower, do your patrol, and – so help me – turn your badge right-side-up," he thundered. Sweeping away, he left Luna breathing through her nose with eyes so wide that she truly did look maddened.

"Loony, loony, Luna!" cried a voice above their heads, followed by a loud raspberry.

"Shove off, Peeves," said Ginny, stirred into action. She collected Luna by the shoulders and steered her toward the tower. Somehow it no longer seemed like the right moment to crow over her progress with Tom. By the next morning, however, Luna had tapped down any anger and when she drifted out of the Room of Requirement, commented on Tom Riddle's new haircut.

"That was me," said Ginny. "I just thought it needed to be done." The words had barely escaped her mouth when what had been peculiar the night before came into full focus. "Oh, bloody hell," she breathed, catching Luna by the arm. "I cut Riddle's hair. I made a pair of scissors appear. It was like during the DA, when I needed a book or Harry needed a whistle. They just appeared."

Luna's mouth formed into a thoughtful 'o' and then she bobbed her head. "The Room must not be frozen anymore. I think I suspected this would happen"

"What if it works for Riddle?"

"I haven't seen anything new show up, have you?"

Neither girl had, but they nevertheless agreed to search Riddle's room thoroughly that night and in the future. Classes passed without incident (although Gregory did manage to put a ball of paper through Professor Binns shoulder without him noticing), depositing Ginny outside her Head of House's office.

When Ginny entered her office, McGonagall handed her a letter from her family, which she tucked into her bag for later. "Your brother is back on his feet and good as new, Miss Weasley," her professor reported. "He has a new, untidy affinity for raw meat, but that has been taken well in hand by Miss Delacour."

Ginny could imagine her mother's horror, and grinned. "Can't wait to see him. Thanks Professor."

"Additionally, I have arranged for you to Floo home for your brother's wedding in a few weeks' time. The Order has also prepared a backup Portkey in the event that the Floo network becomes compromised before that time.

"As for the business at hand, I have reports from all your professors, Miss Weasley. You seem to be managing well, though a bit distracted." Ginny's heart sank until McGonagall eyed her over the papers. "That is to be expected, of course, in light of recent events. The only concern comes from Professor Slughorn, who says that your performance has dipped and improved dramatically."

Remembering her talk with Luna, Ginny quickly relayed her conversation with Slughorn and their concerns that he might be fishing for information about the Order. McGonagall's brow furrowed into a single line.

"Thank you Miss Weasley. I am aware of Professor Slughorn's inquisitiveness, though I am shocked that he would attempt to glean information from a student. I will speak to him, but you would do well to avoid him in the future."

"Do you think he's working with You-Know-Who?" asked Ginny.

"Heavens, no! Horace a Death Eater—why I—Of course not, Miss Weasley." Her glasses had gone slightly askew, and Ginny suspected the firm denial was as much for herself as for Ginny. "No, I believe he wants the resources of the Order without committing himself to the danger it entails."

Professor McGonagall was white around the nostrils, so Ginny hastened to say, "Don't worry, Professor, I've worked it out. I got a tutor."

"Quite right. I rarely speak ill of my colleagues, but in this case—well, I will speak with Professor Slughorn. In the meantime, there is one further matter I must discuss with you. I know you are accustomed to spending time with Miss Lovegood after hours, but I'm afraid I cannot allow it any longer."

"What?" yelped Ginny.

"It is the rules, Miss Weasley." As she leaned back, McGonagall looked hollow under the eyes in a way Ginny had never seen before.

"Does this have to do with the _Prophet_? Because Dumbledore was not being lenient—"

"Now is not the time for rebellion. I will not tolerate another Dolores Umbridge in Hogwarts. The Headmaster charged me with keeping our students safe and you must understand; I cannot do anything that might give them leverage to replace me."

Ginny bit back the protest that she was working for Dumbledore too; she did not want to have any hand in getting McGonagall fired. Instead, she attempted a smile and answered, "I understand." McGonagall dismissed her, but the wan look on her face made Ginny turn back at the door. "No one in their right mind would call you unsteady, Professor." She gave a short laugh that did not even need to be forced. "Seriously, have they ever been in your classes?"

McGonagall offered a thin smile and waved Ginny off, but not before handing her a hard biscuit. At dinner, Harper caught her eye from across the Great Hall, exultant.


	16. Undertow

Difficulties of Avoidance

by dead2self

**A/N:** Special thanks to akeginu, whose in-depth reviews are in part responsible for this chapter being written so quickly. Thanks for those! I really am motivated by the thought of people reading my story, and reviews are the only tangible way for me to get that. The other reason that this chapter came so fast is that I've been waiting to write it for FOREVER. Get excited.

Also, awhile back I think someone asked me if Harper is an original character. The answer is yes and no. In the books, Harper is a character mentioned once in HBP who subs as a Seeker on the Slytherin Quidditch team. He is in Ginny's year, and she describes him as an idiot. He calls Ron a blood traitor, is snide, and gets distracted by Harry, missing the Snitch as a result. Of course, that one Quidditch game isn't a whole lot to go off of, so I've developed him quite a lot more. My Harper is much less concerned with blood purity than what people think of him - but the whole purity thing is a popular opinion in Slytherin that I think he buys into as a result. I hope under the ridiculous caricature of a disciplinarian, I've started to develop a truly interesting character in Harper.

I'm pleased with this chapter, so I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

Recently, Ginny had been in charge of serving Tom's dinners to avoid loitering in the corridors after hours without Luna. Now she was delegated back to breakfast for the same reason – only Luna could be out and about at night. They managed it the first night by hiding Ginny in an alcove where she could shoot off her Patronus. Ginny could have cared less about House points now, but the memory of McGonagall's unsettled features kept her from blatantly patrolling alongside Luna. A near miss with Harper meant that she spent much of her free time practicing the Patronus Charm, urging her mare just a bit further each time. Most unfortunate, she did not find her morning schedule as conducive to studying Potions with Riddle.

This did not bother Riddle, who had seemingly lost interest in striking deals with her. "I find there is not much else I require from you," he said over his breakfast.

"I'm sure you'll think of something," she answered. She was busy weeding his small library collection for books that were due back at the library.

" The only things I need you to give me are food and a wand." His eyes flashed to her bag. "And perhaps that marvelous map."

"Riddle," she warned. She glanced over her shoulder, holding a surely untouched copy of _Little People, Big Plans_, and saw that he was grinning at her, all gleaming teeth. She spun, feeling that nothing good could come of that smile. "You have a terrible sense of humor, you know that?"

"Perhaps you don't understand the joke. Truly, though, where did you come across such a treasure? Surely it is beyond your skill to create."

"Family pass-down," she quipped, because that was mostly true. She picked up _Predicting the Unpredictable__. _ "So, did you read this? I thought you wouldn't."

"What do you think?"

"I think I'm right, and I think I'll take it back since you clearly have no intention to read it. You could help, you know. It would make it faster if I didn't have to guess."

To her surprise, Riddle stalked over and began fingering through the volumes that had gathered dust on the solid, towering bookshelf. Without a word, he deposited an armful of books atop her floating pile and consolidated a handful of titles to keep back, including the Potions manual (Luna had owled for a new copy from Flourish and Blotts) and the mysterious wandlore book.

"Is that so interesting?" she asked, pointing to the thin volume. "It's nearly all pictures."

Raising a brow at her, he slid _Predicting the Unpredictable_ from her stack of books. "I have yet to make up my mind on this. You and Luna will not have your answer yet, it seems." Studying it briefly, his manic grin returned. "The title is appropriate, is it not?"

"I'll say," Ginny answered, rolling her eyes.

It was not just Tom who seemed more volatile – more unpredictable – by the moment. In spite of McGonagall's speech to the Ravenclaw table, more and more students began to take stock in Rita Skeeter's book. The Slytherins were nearly beside themselves with some of the revelations in the book – namely Dumbledore's association with one of the Darkest wizards the world had ever seen. Ginny spotted a third year trying to Charm the cover onto his T-shirt and would have cursed him there in the corridor if Flitwick had not been strolling nearby.

Worse still were the looks students were beginning to level at McGonagall when she sat at the middle of the staff table. Prodded by the _Daily Prophet_, nearly every house but Gryffindor somehow found issue with the new temporary Headmistress. Ginny outright refused to approach the Ravenclaw table after Orla squeaked out that it seemed unfair of Dumbledore to favor his own house, as if the Headmaster had handpicked his replacement before swan diving off the Astronomy Tower.

Then, naturally, there was Harper. He had taken to manhandling Luna along with him to evidently urgent tasks throughout the castle, making it difficult to catch a moment alone with her outside classes. Additionally, he made a habit of parading this fact. She was studying in the library with a handful of Gryffindors when he frog-marched Luna up to their table.

"Harper and I are patrolling together tonight," Luna told Ginny through thin white lips. "He thinks it might further house unity. Personally, I think his mind has been irrevocably damaged by Wrackspurts and is not to be trusted."

"House unity, Harper?" alluded Gregory, glancing between the pair. "If you need a discrete spot, there's an excellent place behind a tapestry on the third floor—"

Harper cut in front of Luna, leaning down over Ginny. "You're up to something, Weasley, and I'm going to find out what it is."

"I'll be up to something too if you don't back off, Harper," said Demelza, shoving away from the table.

"Threatening the Head Boy, Robins?"

"Didn't say that, did I?" said Ginny's former Chaser, tossing her head. "But since Ginny's studying now, maybe you should leave her to it. We've got N.E.W.T.s coming up, haven't we?"

Sneering, Harper turned back on Ginny. "I'll be keeping an eye out for you tonight. If I see you with even a toe outside Gryffindor Tower, I'm taking you straight to the Headmistress and there's nothing Lovegood can do about it." Luna met Ginny's eye over Harper's shoulder and huffed, but she looked resigned. They had talked about McGonagall's precarious position. Harper spun, snatching up Luna's arm. "Come on, Lovegood,"

"You're delusional!" Ginny called after him.

"I could probably still get a decent Stinging Hex from here," scowled Gregory. Ginny waved him off, already wrapped up in considerations of how they would manage to slip Harper that night. Luna finally escaped Harper's attention by lingering beside the Gryffindor table at supper. The Head Boy almost seemed inclined to follow her there, but even he had a hard time facing down the full force of Gryffindor glaring at him. Word had travelled.

When dinner finished, Luna made a beeline to Ginny. With the noise of the scraping benches covering them, Ginny and Luna put their heads together and talked quickly as they joined the droves leaving the Hall.

"What should I do?" said Luna.

"I suppose we can bring up the dinner before curfew or I'll have to sneak in. I don't know how to hide food in my bag, do you?" Luna shook her head, eyes darting over her shoulder to locate the Head Boy. Ginny bit her lip. "I'll have to ask Fred and George how they managed to smuggle all that food upstairs for all those Quidditch celebrations. There must be a trick to it." Or perhaps her brothers were just that much better at sneaking around the castle.

"I'll try to keep him away from the seventh floor," said Luna. "There are the Dust Mice in the dungeons that need checking. Harper doesn't think so, but they are running rampant. Keep checking the map, just in case."

"It's times like these I wish I had Harry's Invisibility Cloak."

"Harry has an Invisibility Cloak?" Luna asked, voice going wispy.

"Oh, er, yeah he—" Ginny cut off as a hand closed heavily around her shoulder. She yelped, throwing an elbow on instinct and caught Colin in the stomach. "Sorry Colin!" she said, patting him on the back as he coughed. "Thought you were Harper."

"No, but he's—"

"And your first thought was to attack me, Weasley?" But for the lack of the telltale crack, Ginny would have thought Harper had Apparated behind her. She turned on her heel, chin up, and the crowd of students slowed around them, no doubt waiting for a fight.

"Not like I haven't done it before! Don't tell me you need Luna _again_."

Harper's mouth curled and for a moment he looked so like Tom Riddle that Ginny almost recoiled. "As a matter of fact, I do—"

Luna stepped between the pair and flourished a roll of parchment that she drew from her robes. "Actually, Harper, I took the liberty of compiling this list during supper. There are so many things I mean to bring to your attention while we're together tonight, and I think it would be best if we start at the top of the castle and work our way down." Flicking the parchment open, Luna let it trail to the ground and past Harper's feet. "First, I think it would be best if we check each suit of armor. I've had an inkling that they have been switching places, just out of the corner of my eye. I think with the pair of us, we may be able to keep an eye on them all and catch them in the act. Must be careful – revolts, you know."

Harper's determination to discover what Luna and Ginny were doing had surely reached new extremes, because his only response was to take a hard swallow. He swiped the list from Luna and surveyed it with thinly veiled dread. "Very well," he gritted. "Shall we start now?"

"Merlin, no," cried Luna, taking it back. "I have so much to add to it. I haven't even mentioned the dabberblimps yet. We'll meet just before curfew, as promised."

A strangled noise escaped Harper's throat and he retreated without another word. Ginny watched him go, eyes bright. "Nicely done, Luna," she said.

Luna tilted her head to the side, no trace of humor evident on her face. Rather, her eyebrows had climbed with obvious concern. "Harper has been avoiding these issues for quite some time. If he'll force me to patrol with him, I'll very well force him to consider the dangers all around us at Hogwarts. Why, if we can't be counted upon to warn the Merpeople of the dabberblimps, who will?"

Ginny could just picture Ron mouthing 'dabberblimps' over Luna's head, and struggled to suppress a laugh. "Alright, the added bonus that you'll drive Harper mad is just coincidental."

At this, Luna grinned. "Best keep working on this. And don't worry – I've practiced casting a quite discreet Patronus."

Ginny waved her off and then nearly bowled over Colin again as she turned toward the Grand Staircase. "Oh, Colin, I didn't realize you were still there."

He had been standing patiently, and his hands were twisted in his robes. "It's nothing. I was just wondering… Have you talked to Harry lately?"

Ginny's heart sank so suddenly that she felt like elbowing him in the gut again. Instead she kept her voice even and replied, "No, I haven't talked to Harry since we broke up. I suppose he'll be at Bill and Fleur's wedding." She realized this was true as she said it and her stomach gave an involuntary flop at the prospect of seeing Harry again. "Why, did you need to tell him something? I'm sure a Hogwarts owl could find him if it tried, but—"

"No, it's nothing like that. It's just…" Colin, still so skinny even in his seventh year, stood a little straighter and looked her in the eye. "Ginny, does he have a plan? All this rot in the _Prophet_ about Muggle baiting and the business in Diagon Alley. And You-Know-Who had to be behind Dumbledore dying, no matter what the _Prophet_ is saying. We all saw the Dark Mark. I just…I have to know. My family could be in danger."

Kicking herself for letting this conversation degenerate into self-pity, Ginny seized his wrist and held tight. "There will _always_ be people fighting back against Voldemort," she promised. "And they absolutely have a plan. And not just in the Ministry – fat lot of good they do anyways. In fact…" She slipped closer, scanning the now sparse Entrance Hall for any students that might be eavesdropping. "If you're worried about your family, you best talk to McGonagall. I bet she can set it right."

"Th-Thanks, Ginny," stammered Colin, taking his hand back. He blinked down at her like she was one of Luna's dabberblimps, as though he had never seen anything quite like her. When he walked away, his shoulders were squared. With a glance at the time, Ginny let Harper see her on her way up to Gryffindor tower and paid a second year a spare Nosebleed Nougat she found in her trunk to tell Harper she was in her dormitory if he asked. As close to after hours as possible, she drew out the Marauder's Map and avoided Harper and Luna on her way down to the dungeons. Filch gave her a nasty look when she stowed the map at the sight of him, but as after hours had yet to begin, he could only snap at her to hurry.

Ginny had gotten rather good at dodging prefects and teachers in her seven years at Hogwarts, and she prided herself to do it that night with the Map in one hand and Riddle's food in the other. Luna and Harper had worked their way down to the sixth floor on the map, presumably to continue downward, and Ginny managed her way to the Room of Requirement without much fuss. This time she carefully said, "Mischief managed," and stowed the map before entering the Room.

"You again?" Riddle said by way of greeting. He was lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"Harper commandeered Luna for the night. He won't let me around after hours by myself, so I'm sneaking out." Riddle swung himself off the bed, and she added, "Don't worry on my account. I'm pretty good at it."

"Got some practice your first year, I suppose," he answered. She scowled at him, shoving the plate at his chest.

"I'll trust you to eat that," she said. "I'm going back to Gryffindor Tower before they get up here again."

It occurred to her then that it might be best to check the corridor before unlocking the door. She put distance between Riddle and herself, unfolding the map. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good," she whispered to the map. It stayed innocuously blank, and emboldened that the map was effectively locked to anyone without a wand, she pulled her wand and casually said the incantation. She followed it closely with a curse. Luna and Harper were standing just outside the Room of Requirement, and they were not moving.

"Harper is just standing out there!" she cried.

"About time," Riddle commented. "Neither of you girls is particularly subtle." He crossed the room and now peered over her shoulder, but Ginny was fast enough to say, "Mischief managed," before he got too close.

"Knowing Harper, he'll likely stand there until the prefects are supposed to sleep," she rejoined, tucking away the map. "Best settle in for a long evening." A chair would be nice, and briefly she wondered if she had had enough practice to Conjure her own like Dumbledore had. She turned around and was pleased to see a plush armchair next to Riddle's strict wooden chair. It seems the Room really was unfrozen – no need to practice Conjuring after all.

"Don't look at me if you want to stay up late and giggle over the wireless."

"Giggle over the wireless?" she laughed, bounding over to settle into the new chair. "You're showing your age, Riddle. No one does that but old witches and my mum."

Riddle raised an eyebrow at her and retreated to his bed with his food. Ginny took the liberty of angling his chair so she could prop her feet up, and took the time to grind out an excellent essay on the importance of utilizing one's environment for Defense. It was a shame no one was lining up for the position to read it. Once finished, she checked the map again, and was relieved to find Harper and Luna moving on the second floor. It was a clean shot to Gryffindor Tower, so Ginny sent off her Patronus. She had just hauled herself through the portrait hole when she heard a shuffle behind her and a sudden cry. The Fat Lady slammed shut before anyone could see inside, and Ginny checked the map under wandlight. Artemis Flint, a fifth year Slytherin prefect, she recalled, was barreling away from the Gryffindor Common Room. Ginny grimaced, but there was nothing left to do but go to bed.

Harper was livid at breakfast. Ginny caught sight of him, heads together with Flint and McGonagall and making wild hand gestures. Luna stood by serenely, though every time she did open her mouth it produced an apoplectic spasm in Harper's forehead. Ginny chewed on a strip of bacon and thought he looked like Snape in miniature. It was not a happy comparison.

The first time Ginny caught Luna alone that day was in Transfiguration. McGonagall was lecturing on the five Principal Exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration when they put their heads together to whisper.

"Harper thinks Artemis Flint saw you," said Luna. "He is… rather upset."

"He did see me. Doesn't matter; Harper can eat my hat before it's okay for him to yell at McGonagall."

"He's asking me to patrol again. He means to stand in front of the Room all night if he has to, and I don't think I can get him away like last night." Luna scrubbed at a scorch mark on the desk, huffing. "If only the Room could feed him until all this blows over."

Frowning, Ginny watched McGonagall flick her wand at the blackboard, which wrote "Food" in strict letters. "Suppose that's why it can't," she said, jotting this down in her notes.

"Miss Weasley, Miss Lovegood, I would appreciate your full attention," barked McGonagall.

Ginny sat up straighter and gave Luna what she hoped was a reassuring glance. She hastened to copy down the rest of the five exceptions. Just before "Food" was "Magically imbued objects (Wands, amulets, etc.)." Ginny supposed that it was a fair trade off; they had to feed Riddle, but the Room could not accidentally conjure him a wand.

While in Potions, Ginny and Luna agreed that Riddle would just have to eat a sparse portable dinner that night. Rather, Ginny suggested Riddle could survive until breakfast and Luna had given her a surprisingly Head Girl sort of look, deciding the matter. Ginny would smuggle it upstairs and get back to the dormitory before after hours. It was a shame, because she could have used Riddle's help on the essay due the next day. He still owed her one lesson and she was not about to let him forget. But Luna still did not know about _that_ arrangement.

Unfortunately, when she left the tower about an hour before nine, Harper was laying in wait. "Where are you going, Weasley?"

Ginny stopped in the portrait hole, her face growing red. "That's it!" she crowed. "I'm going to McGonagall. You can't follow me around the castle just because you imagine I've done something wrong." She pushed past him.

"That's a joke, Weasley," he snapped, dogging her steps. "We both know you're as bad as Potter. He had Granger, and you have Lovegood, but it stops here. The Head Boy and Girl aren't meant to cater to the lawless miscreants that Gryffindor consistently churns out."

"Lawless miscreants? That's rich, coming from the breeding ground of Death Eaters."

Harper went a deep shade of puce, but he retorted, "Just because Lovegood has shrivelfigs for brains doesn't mean you can traipse about as you like."

"I can 'traipse about' as much as I want before hours—Wait." She spun on Harper and advanced on him until he had the good sense to back away. "You think I'm taking advantage of Luna?" she asked, ignoring a prick of guilt. "She is my _friend_. And she's smarter than you'll ever hope to be."

"Is there a problem, Miss Weasley?"

Both Ginny and Harper whipped around at Slughorn's companionable drawl. "Harper has been following me since Gryffindor Tower," Ginny said loudly before Harper could open his mouth. "He's been bothering me and my friends for a few days like this. I'm going to talk to McGonagall about it."

"That's quite alright, Miss Weasley. Mr. Harper, do leave the poor girl alone." And then their professor _winked_, and Harper and Ginny shared perhaps their first glance of agreement – one of horror.

"I was just going," gritted Harper, deeply red, and Ginny was on his heels before Slughorn stopped her.

"Just a moment, Miss Weasley. A word."

Dread fluttered in Ginny's stomach as she thought of the time slipping away and Harper no doubt waiting to pounce at the strike of nine. She did not have time for what would likely be a roundabout dance for information, so she resolved to be blunt.

"I'm not going to be able to tell you anything about Harry or the Order," she said fiercely once Harper was out of earshot. "No one tells me anything, and I wouldn't likely tell _you_ even if I did know."

She might well have struck him, for he stumbled back a pace and blinked rapidly at her. "Miss Weasley, that was certainly not what I—"

"Professor McGonagall told me you might be after me for this. Don't try to deny it."

"Wh-Why—" Sputtering slightly, the old man finally pulled his spine straight and eyed her down the line of his straining waistcoat buttons. "Young lady, that is no way to talk to a professor. Five points from Gryffindor!"

"Fine," ground out Ginny. "Can I go now?"

"I simply wished to remind you of your essay due tomorrow. I hope you will put the proper effort. You may go."

Ginny walked away as quickly as she dared, taking note of the time. She would have to double back now that she had faked going toward McGonagall's office, and an errant staircase rerouted her back through the third floor, taking too long even with another shortcut she knew. By the time she stood tapping her foot in the kitchen, she knew she would be cutting it close. The Hogwarts elves, though concerned that presentation would be lacking, carefully wrapped up some fruit, bread, and meats that would not ruin Ginny's bag. By the time she convinced them that double-wrapping everything was not necessary, she knew her only hope was to make it up to the seventh floor without running into Harper. She noted his position on the map and took secret passages as much as she could manage.

Luck was not on her side. As she hopped a trick step and emerged through a false wall in a sixth floor corridor, she froze. Harper stood at the end of the corridor next to Luna, startled. For all his talk, he had not expected to see her so suddenly. Taking the advantage, Ginny bolted. She flew up the hallway, darting up the stairs in bounds of two and making no attempts to be quiet. She skidded in front of Barnabas the Barmy's tapestry and seized the invisible door handle to catch her momentum. She was inside the Room just as she heard footfalls echoing around the corner.

Heaving, Ginny held out the bundle of food to Tom and braced herself against the door. "I've well and truly mucked things up tonight," she confessed, but she could not keep the grin from rising on her face. The hair on her arms still tingled from the chase and her narrow victory.

"Not yet," he answered, coming over from the table. He took the different parcels and studied them dubiously. "There is still time."

"Harper practically saw me come in here. He won't move from the spot if the castle crumbles around his ears."

"Is my rescue imminent?"

"Harper wouldn't know who you are," she said flippantly. "He just hates me and Luna."

"A friend of mine, then." He unwrapped an apple and took a bite, taking no care to swallow before he continued. "I suppose it will be another late night?"

"I'll break out the wireless if you want to giggle over it." A corner of Tom's lips turned ever so slightly up and she blazed into the room, settling in her chair. "Actually, I have a Potions essay due tomorrow and you still owe me. Let's get to work on that."

"I do not recall allowing that last 'favor' to count toward our running deal."

"Do I need to conjure you a mirror, Riddle? Besides, you're brilliant and you have nothing to do." She levitated his copy of the Potions Manual from the bookshelf and dropped it on the table, paging through to the right section. "Come on, I'm the breadwinner here. I dodged Harper and professors to get you this meal. It's the least you can do."

Riddle took his seat, pulling it opposite her. "This is the meal upon which you wish to negotiate?" he asked, holding up cold meat.

"If you're not going to eat it, I will. I've worked up an appetite bringing it up here. The kitchens are in the dungeons, you know."

Staring at her steadily, Tom pulled the Potions book toward himself. "Well, who am I to deny you one last Potions lesson?" A thin smile, almost predatory, rose on his face, but this was business as usual with Tom. "Especially with a teacher so brilliant as I."

Naturally, once they settled down to work her giddiness at outsmarting Harper gradually wore off. Her Potions homework concerned a complicated mix of measurement calculations, which Riddle figured out by staring hard at her textbook and muttering numbers and ingredients. Ginny saw no rhyme or reason to it, but his answers were right and he was fast. She insisted he explain them to her, and he insisted that he must finish them all before she could have a hope of understanding. Checking the map showed that Luna and Harper were stationary out in the corridor, so she borrowed from Riddle's accumulated library to pass the time. On a whim, she chose _Predicting the Unpredictable_ and swung her legs up around the arm of her chair, reading to the constant hum of Riddle's calculations.

It was honestly one of the worst books she had ever read, and that included Binn's History of Magic textbooks. She caught Riddle's eye over the cover and mimed gagging. Stone-faced, he pointed to her bag.

"Can you hand me your notes from class?"

Nodding, she prodded the bag as far toward him as sitting in the chair allowed. He sighed and crossed the rest of the distance, rustling through her papers. She returned to the stunning testimonial of a witch who predicted that she would be green for a year – and then proceeded to wear the color green for 365 days. The trick to insulating yourself against shocks seemed to be having such a tight control on your life that shock was not possible. Clearly the author had never come across Tom Riddle.

Riddle's quiet voice brought her out of her reading. "Dumbledore isn't in the castle tonight, is he?"

"Wha—?"

"_Expelliarmus!_"

Ginny whipped around in shock, but her wand was ripped out of her hand. Riddle did not bother to catch it, and as it rolled far out of her reach, an exultant grin rose on his face. He was staring at her down the length of a short, black wand, the Marauder's Map hanging in his free hand.

"_Crucio!_"

Ginny was faintly aware that she screamed, that she pitched from her chair onto the floor, but her awareness of this was nothing next to the fire that lit her every nerve. Her body arched against the pain of her spine snapping in half and in the next moment her fingernails found a ridge in floor, digging in just to have an anchor as she writhed. But this would never end, not before her blood boiled and her skin peeled back from her bones.

Her breath still came ragged when she realized the pain was gone. It took a moment for her eyes to focus on Riddle, standing above her with a delighted gleam on his face. Horror clutched at her chest; it was the Chamber all over again.

"You're not going to kill me?" she rasped. Her body shook uncontrollably from her shoulders down and she clutched her arms to her chest. For a terrible moment, she thought his wand hand moved and she hoped for the Killing Curse – anything but another Cruciatus. Shame washed over her as sudden as the thought came, and she made sure to scowl up at Riddle with every fiber she had left.

His face twisted in glee as he towered over her. "Don't tempt me… There is no evidence in this time period that I am guilty, now that the diary is destroyed. Once I escape the castle, it will be Dumbledore's word against mine. Although his testimony will hold a great deal of clout, there is little _real_ evidence that he can produce that _I_ have done anything wrong."

Ginny would beg to differ, but Riddle did not need to know that.

"You look skeptical," Riddle observed. "There is something I am unaware of?"

"Don't be ridicu—"

"_Legimens!_"

Ginny tried to fight him, but holding back an armed Riddle was like damming the ocean. Memories poured from her head. It seemed like she was trapped for hours, watching her life, all her conversations about Harry and Voldemort and Dumbledore and the war, pass before her mind's eye. He was taking everything. Some moments, with a jerk, she would realize _no, he can't see that_ and the room would swim before her eyes before the tip of a wand flicked and it disappeared all over again.

When Riddle finally released her, Ginny found herself sprawled out on the floor. Riddle was standing above her, clutching the wand and breathing heavily. He smiled strangely, a mix between annoyance and intense satisfaction. "So, the old coot is finally dead, is he? And you've been keeping it from me for weeks. I must admit I am impressed. You are quite the unabashed liar, aren't you?"

"You've never met my brothers," Ginny gritted.

She could see where her wand had fallen, now only inches away from her shaking fingers. Riddle followed her line of sight, but his smile only widened. "Oh, yes, Ginny. Do pick it up; I have wanted to duel you for months now." And he kicked the wand to her outstretched hand.

Ginny wasted no time. "_Expelliarmus!_" Riddle blocked the spell as Ginny struggled to her feet, diving to the side as he shot a jinx past her head. She shot a Stunner that he deflected almost lazily and was hit immediately with a curse that made it feel like her insides were curling in upon themselves. She doubled over in pain, but yelled "_Accio_ _chair_!" in time for the wooden chair to catch a curse for her that sent it up in flames. Riddle swept the room with his wand and a large black serpent appeared, coiled around Ginny, its head raised to strike. Adrenaline overtook the pain in her stomach, and she screamed "_Reducto!_" reducing the snake to dust.

"You can't get out of here without me, Riddle!" she yelled, diving to the floor just as he cried, "_Imperio!_"

Ginny knew she was helplessly outmatched, and as she shot another useless Stunner at him, she wished that she had at least something to hide behind. No sooner had several pieces of large furniture fallen between Ginny and Riddle than an overstuffed armchair took a Blasting Curse for her. She dodged behind a loveseat and shrieked when it suddenly began wrapping around her. Managing to pull her wand arm free, she caught sight of Riddle advancing on her.

"_Imper_—"

The world slowed down around Ginny, for she saw her only way out. She pointed her wand not at Riddle but at the heavy black bookshelf next to him. With a thundering crash, the bookshelf toppled onto Riddle, splaying books about the room. "_Reducto!_" The loveseat turned to dust around her and she spotted Riddle trying to struggle out from underneath the bookcase. His arm was caught and bloody. "_Expelliarmus!_" She caught the wand deftly and then levitated the bookshelf off of Riddle. He moaned once, clutching his arm to his chest but nonetheless leveling himself to his feet before Ginny knocked him back with possibly the strongest Stunner she had ever cast. He lay still.

Ginny's breath labored as she stood over him, and a new wave of pain washed over her with the loss of adrenaline. Collecting the map, she noted that Harper and Luna still stood sentry outside the Room, but that was the least of her worries at the moment. It took three tries to summon the concentration to cast a Patronus and the seconds passed intolerably slow until the door unlocked.

"Luna," she gasped, stumbling out from the Room. To her relief, Luna had managed to turn Harper away from the door, and she edged the door shut before he spun on her.

"Ahah! Out after hours! I—"

Ginny vomited blood over his shoes and that shut him up. "Ginny!" cried Luna as Ginny went down on all fours, retching. Her insides were on fire, no doubt ripped to shreds. How was she still breathing?

She managed to gasp out, "He attacked me." She had forgotten she clutched the spare black wand until Luna slipped it from her shaking fingers. At least she hoped it was Luna. The candlelight in the corridor was turning murky. Harper's face, chalky and contorted in horror, swam above her.

"What do we do?" said a boy's voice that twisted an octave too high with nerves.

"Help me get her to the Hospital Wing, Harper! Please!"

With every jolting step, Ginny thought her intestines might spill out. Her eyes fluttered into her eyelids and when she pried them open, Madam Pomfrey hovered above her, holding the back of her head as she poured a foul potion down her throat. "This is very Dark magic! Who did this to her?"

Ginny was diverted by the icy burn that trickled through her chest and down into her stomach, glad that she could breath again. "Just—got—in a fight—with some Slytherin. Can you—fix it?"

Madame Pomfrey looked faintly horrified, but she hurried Ginny to the nearest bed and handed her a potion to drink. The room went fuzzy around the edges before she passed out entirely.


	17. Coughing up Water

Difficulties of Avoidance

by dead2self

**A/N:** Ground out another chapter! This one is a bit of a breather after all that excitement, but I hope you enjoy it! Thank you again for the reviews! I love seeing people's reactions to what I write! And I would love if you could review again - as I said, it's pretty much why I've managed to write these all so fast. You guys are awesome.

* * *

Riddle's moan signaled that he was awake again. Ginny flinched at the noise, but only leaned closer over the Mediwitch manual, attempting to replicate the wand movement in the moving diagram.

"What do you think you're doing," Riddle snarled, the words coming out in a pained hiss.

It took every ounce of Gryffindor courage that Ginny had to steel her voice. "Your arm is broken and the bone is exposed. How is your head? Do you feel like you have a concussion? You haven't thrown up at all…"

She watched Riddle sit up gingerly, one arm hanging useless at his side. His good hand went to his torso. "Ribs," he said. He had made it to the bed at least. There were still books strewn about the room, so he likely had not left it in several days.

"That looks like the same concept as the arm," Ginny said, frowning as she paged through the book. She could not believe she was doing this; it was completely beyond her level. Riddle looked at her in equal horror to what she was feeling.

"_You_ aren't trying to heal me are you? Surely there is someone else!"

"You saw everything," Ginny snapped. "There is no one else. Luna might be better at this, but I'd rather mess up your arm than risk you jumping Luna as soon as it's mended. I'm better at Defense. I'm doing this."

Riddle's mouth set in a firm line, though from pain or determination Ginny was unsure. He studied her, eyes narrow, and then said, "Put that book away and come here. I will tell you the incantations and show you the wand movement until I am satisfied you won't remove the bone entirely."

She gaped at him, and the only reaction she could think of was to laugh. It came out more like a dry cough. "Riddle, I just spent the better part of an hour trying to find a spell that would let me heal you from at least three meters away, but it doesn't seem to exist. I'm not coming anywhere near you until I'm actually healing you."

"My arm is broken and you have that thrice-damned stick of a wand anyways. What can I do to you?" He was not actually trying to scare her – the usual gleam in his eyes was missing – but nonetheless, Ginny could not help picturing any number of things he could do to her. Pushing away those violent thoughts, she focused on the first part of what he had said.

"Stick?" Her stomach turned at the thought of the black wand nestled at the bottom of her trunk. She and Luna still had not an inkling of how he had gotten it.

"Don't flatter yourself to think that you beat me in a duel on your skill alone. I have never held a more useless wand in my life."

"Maybe if you want your arm fixed you should think about cutting back on the snarky comments," Ginny shot back. "You're lucky I'm helping you at all." But it was true; this spell was well beyond her, and a misused Healing spell could be more dangerous than a curse. She immobilized Riddle's legs and approached, keeping her wand trained on him while she palmed the book.

There were hallows like bruises beneath his eyes and a slick sheen on his forehead. Ginny stood before him and her vision dropped before she realized: what else could he take? It was something of a relief to look him straight in the eye. As things were, she was tired of ducking her head when her first instinct was always to face a problem with eyes blazing. He matched her gaze, but a flicker in his dark eyes betrayed that it was a response he did not often encounter.

"Alright, show me, then," she challenged.

"Give me your hand," he snapped. His good hand shot out and curled around her wand hand, but she jerked back, out of his reach.

"Mime it Riddle," she said. "Do you think I'm completely helpless?"

His eyes said yes, but she stared back for all she was worth until he had no choice but to lift his hand and run through the wand movements. Settling beside him, a safe distance back, Ginny began to copy him. He repeated this over and over, correcting her shaky mimic with staccato insults. He seemed to never be satisfied with this, but eventually he also said, "_Brackium Emendo_," repeating it for her until she had the perfect inflection.

"This will set the bones in my arm and my ribs," he said with an air of resignation when she had progressed as far as he thought possible. "You must visualize the bone you are aiming to fix. That book has pictures, does it not? I will show you the spell to heal the skin after."

Ginny nearly closed her eyes when she tried the spell until Riddle snapped at her to look at what she was doing. To her utter shock, it worked perfectly. Riddle heaved a low moan of relief, and she did his ribs as well. The wand movements for healing his cuts were much easier, if far more uncomfortable; all she had to do was trace her wand along his open wound, but this required closer proximity. The songlike incantation took the better part of twenty minutes for Ginny to learn correctly, but she needed the time to steel herself against being so close to the boy who had just days earlier tried to kill her.

That thought had stalled her in front of the Room of Requirements for nearly ten whole minutes, shaking and constantly waving off Luna's offers to go in herself. She had opened the door by remembering that nothing had changed, not really. He had tried to kill her before, and it should make no difference that this was more immediate.

She trailed her wand over his arm and fumbled the incantation as she watched goose bumps rise under her touch. If she could see that, she was too close. It did not help that Riddle got progressively more impatient.

"I can leave it open and you can die from infection, or you can shut up and let me concentrate," she finally snapped. "You've got no reason to complain. I'm taking ten potions a day thanks to you." She nudged at her tender ribs.

"Don't be so ungrateful. That curse is meant to kill you." Ginny sucked in a gulp of air, but Riddle was not finished. "You can thank that measly wand that you are still walking."

"What do you mean?" she breathed.

"I told you I needed a wand, Weasley. I needed one that would obey me. Wandlore myth says that if one kills another wizard in a duel, their wand will then change allegiance to the victor. I could not very well face Dumbledore with that dingy stick _you_ disarmed from one of my Death Eaters." The name curled deliciously on his tongue, and Ginny saw in his eyes that he was pleased his Death Eaters had breached the castle. The gleam only grew as his eyes alighted on her wand. "It matters little now, with the old fool dead."

Ginny got the terrible feeling that if his legs were not immobilized, he would already be on top of her trying to wrestle away her wand. Despite his cavalier attitude, she could tell he was furious beneath the surface. Half a year of taking care of him and the fact that she could finally look him in the eye meant that she was plumbing new depths of Riddle's emotions.

"Why do you feel the need to tell me this?" she asked, just to say something with false bravado. "If you're trying to remind me that you'd like to kill me, that's rather old news. About six years old, in fact."

"I would like to be sure you know where we stand," said Riddle coolly, but his hackles were rising.

"Where we stand is that I just beat Lord Voldemort in a duel and you missed your big chance _again_!" Ginny hissed.

This was the wrong thing to say. Snarling, Riddle lunged for her and she was forced to scramble away as he tumbled to the floor. Ginny swallowed a biting comment, reminding herself that they did still have a mission. He swiped for her feet, teeth gnashing, and she felt a pang of emotion that she refused to acknowledge while she danced out of his reach.

"When you're done acting like an animal, perhaps we can have an honest conversation," she said. Perhaps only a little biting. "You know everything now, and I'd like to know where you _stand_ on it."

"I should think that would be obvious," he sneered. His whole body shuddered, and she was reminded of the first time that she had met Tom Riddle in this room, staring up at her with pure distain and a strain of curiosity. The curiosity was long gone.

"There's not a lot that is obvious with you. We'll talk once you have a chance to settle down."

Riddle let out a string of curses, but Ginny ignored him and collected the things from the room that she had left behind after their fight, most notably the Marauder's Map. She emerged from the Room, shaking, and Luna quietly pocketed her wand. Her knuckles stayed white from the tight grip she'd had on it.

"Let's get you to the hospital wing for your potions," she said, putting her hand on Ginny's back. Ginny shrugged it off. Luna made no reference to this and continued, "Did it work?"

"Yes, and I left a few meals' worth of food."

It was midday on a Hogsmeade weekend, and the castle was somewhat empty. This was perfect, as neither Ginny nor Luna wanted to clash with Harper over their escapades again. Harper had been incensed at McGonagall's decision to sweep the whole incident under the rug. It would have been endearing, had Ginny not argued fervently for this decision when she woke up. McGonagall had been tricky. Ginny did know how much the older witch knew about Riddle, but knowing Dumbledore, probably nothing. She suspected the professor would have protested two students playing caretaker to the Dark Lord. Nonetheless, she had convinced McGonagall that it was an incident best not looked into. Such advanced Dark Magic in Hogwarts would probably be ground for her instant removal. Harper clearly agreed, itching for her resignation, but the Headmistress bound him to reluctant silence

Worst of all, Ginny had caught Harper staring at her as though she might fall apart at any moment. Harper had reason to stare at her like that – Ginny had been stuck in the hospital wing for several days, and she had barely lifted her head from the pillow the first day. Despite this, she outright refused to let Luna go into the Room of Requirement to check Riddle, even while he was injured. It meant he had not eaten in several days, but Ginny did not feel nearly as sorry as she should about it.

"He told me how he got the wand," she told Luna. "He must have caught it in the corridor when the Death Eaters were attacking. I do remember disarming someone."

"He's had a wand since then?" Luna gasped. "Why—?"

Luna did not need to finish the question. Ginny too was filled with a new sort of horror as she thought of all the times Riddle could have cursed her in the past month. "He said the wand wasn't working properly for him and that he needed to—to kill me in a duel to get a wand that worked." To her surprise, Luna nodded knowingly.

"I suspect he learned that from the wandlore book you gave him," she said.

Ginny's stomach bottomed out and she gawked openly at her friend. "You knew about the book?" she asked in a voice too small to be her own.

Luna cocked her head. "I got Riddle most of his books, Ginny." She giggled, which did not feel appropriate to the moment to Ginny. "You thought I wouldn't notice an extra?"

"But Riddle—Wait, so you didn't know why he wanted it?" Luna bit her lip and shook her head. Ginny's head went dizzy, trying not to be surprised that Riddle had lied. Before she could think, the whole story tumbled from her mouth. Luna listened, her lips barely moving from a straight line until Ginny finished.

"He called me an unabashed liar," she confessed at the end.

"Sometimes you are, Ginny Weasley," said Luna, surprising Ginny with her raw honesty. Then her eyes softened. "Most of the time, though, I would call you a good actress."

"But he's… he's right. This is all my fault. I'm so sorry Luna. I thought if it was like first year—if we had some sort of secret, I'd be able to, I don't know… connect again. Look how well that turned out."

"I think it might have worked better than you think. We had to tell him about Voldemort eventually. Perhaps now that we are on equal footing, it will be easier to broach the conversation."

Ginny thought of Riddle hunched on the ground, clawing for her, and shuddered. Easier to broach the conversation, or the most dangerous and unbridled Riddle had ever been? The thought followed her to bed and it was no surprise that she could not sleep. But in the tight-eyed grey of the morning, stomach rolling from exhaustion, she was forced to recognize that horror was not her reigning emotion. She felt betrayed. She frowned against the prick of unwanted tears.

They had built an uneasy comfort. She'd had a chair next to his that she'd curled up in. They had sat with shoulders nearly touching while he bored her to tears with inverse poison equations and he had not reached for her wand. She had bossed him around like a right little brat of a sister. He conspired against Slughorn with her, albeit against his knowledge. For the briefest instant, she had thought he had a terrible, _wonderful_ sense of humor and so much potential to be brilliant. She had been the butt of his jokes; he had _almost_ smiled at her own humor. Merlin, she had started thinking of him as _Tom_. It was not fair that he had done this to her again, not when she knew so much about him.

Before she could help it, her cheeks were wet. She buried her nose in her pillow, squeezing her eyes shut, when a thought needled at her: she knew so much about him. Was it really betrayal if she had always known it was coming? There was a reason she had held her wand close and tried to guard the map. And who said that she could not trade witty insults with Riddle while still appreciating that he would certainly attempt to steal her wand and destroy her? He was beyond terrible, but so very clever. By Merlin's beard, she had mended bones that afternoon!

She could be reasonably fond of Riddle if she damn well wanted to be, and she refused to let him have any say in it. At that, her thoughts drifted into an easy sleep.

* * *

The lack of sleep meant that Ginny woke up nauseous. Her chest hurt like someone had sliced her from shoulder to hip, something that Madam Pomfrey had warned would happen. She had also instructed Ginny to come straight to the hospital wing when it did, but Ginny had no desire to do that. What she needed to do was see Riddle again. She did not know what she was going to say, nor could she piece together exactly what she had been thinking before she fell asleep, but she threw on robes without consideration.

The hour was still uncommonly early for a Sunday at Hogwarts, so Ginny did not expect to encounter any other students in the corridors. That being said, it was not entirely a shock to find Harper running his hands over the wall opposite the tapestry.

"You have got to be kidding me," she breathed, turning quickly. _Keep Harper out!_ she urged the Room. Fortunately, he forgot his search when he caught sight of her.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, falling in step beside her.

"Hospital wing," she grunted.

"This is nowhere close to the hospital wing," he answered. "You were coming back for—for whatever it is you've been up to!"

"I was going for a walk, and now my chest hurts, so I'm going to the hospital wing."

"Weasley, you nearly _died!_"

"Just going for a walk. I think I can handle that, Harper."

"I can't believe you almost died and you are still going to stubbornly ignore the rules. They have been implemented for a reason."

"I'm not breaking any rules. Curfew is about as far away as it can get."

"Dumbledore said this seventh floor corridor was off-limits, that whoever went here might face death. You and the Head Girl have flagrantly ignored that all year, and look where it's gotten you."

Ginny rolled her eyes to the ceiling. Honestly, no one but Harper would remember a rule that Dumbledore had mentioned once back in September. Ginny herself had completely forgotten about it, probably aided by the fact that she had disregarded it from the beginning.

"Who cursed you?" Harper prodded. "You said it was a Slytherin, but no on in my house knows anything about it. What really happened, Weasley?"

"Yeah, because anyone would confess to a curse that would get them expelled." Was he going to follow her all the way to the hospital wing? If that was the case…

Ginny let out a short yelp, cutting off Harper's response, and clutched at her side. He made a jerking movement halfway between lunging for her and recoiling in horror, asking, "What happened? What's wrong?"

"Pomfrey told me this might happen. I just need to get down to—" Then, to her horror, Harper caught her arm around his shoulders and lifted her from the ground, cradling her under her knees.

"Ow!" Ginny shrieked, because now her chest _actually_ hurt. With each jarring step, she was sure she would need another ten potions. "Put me down! You're making it worse!"

Harper had the slight build of a Seeker, but he had a strong grip, too tight to let her kick free. He frowned at her down his nose, looking like a pretentious git even as he helped her. "I saw you when it happened. Even though you deserved it, I'm not taking any chances."

"I'm not taking the chance of someone seeing me being carried around like a baby!" Ginny struggled to untangle her wand from her robes with one hand. "Put me down or I swear I'll curse you – and it _will_ be in self-defense!"

Harper ignored her, and Ginny succeeded in freeing her wand. He got five steps farther before she caught him with a Jelly-Legs Jinx and they both hit the floor. Ginny groaned as she untangled herself, though luckily she had landed mostly on top.

"You—Weasley, you're mad! Completely bonkers!" Harper started trying to haul himself upright using a tapestry, whose subject scrambled to the upper right corner and scolded him harshly.

"You're one to talk! You can't go around picking people up!" She groaned as she stumbled to her feet. "Look what you did now."

"I was _trying_ to _help_."

"No one asked for your help!" With a wave of her wand, Ginny reversed the curse. Harper scrambled to his feet, altogether failing to look dignified, and swept past her. He left grumbling darkly, but finally allowed Ginny some peace. Unfortunately, visiting Riddle was no longer an option; their short tumble meant that Ginny's injuries were throbbing worse than before. She got an earful from Madam Pomfrey, and ended up on bed rest for the remainder of the day. Luckily, they had left enough food with Riddle to tide him over.

Thus, it was not until the next morning that Luna took her first turn with Riddle since his attack. Ginny leaned against the tapestry, ignoring the trolls that leered at her, and held her wand at the ready. However, almost as soon as Luna had entered the room, her Patronus burst out. Shooting to attention, Ginny sent her Patronus in return. Luna barreled from the Room.

Ginny expected Riddle to be on her heels, but instead Luna cried, "He's—I think Tom is sick!" Ginny dropped her wand arm, propelled forward by shock.

"What? Are you sure—"

"He's burning up and he won't stop shaking," said Luna. Her eyes had gone as wide as saucers and appeared to be frozen that way. She cast all about the corridor for some sort of direction, and Ginny stepped in, calm under pressure.

"Go fetch some water from the bathroom," she said, conjuring a crude pail. "I'll go in and stay with him. Was he awake?"

"I—I think his eyes were b-back in his head!"

"I'll try _Enervate_… If we can get him to talk, I'll bet he'll know what to do. If not… I suppose the Room can provide some books. Get the water for now."

Luna dashed off as Ginny slipped into the Room. She noticed the food, untouched, on the table and hurried to Riddle's bedside. She felt his forehead, but it was hardly necessary. Riddle's breath came in ragged gasps and his face was uncomfortably white, shining with sweat. He seemed to be asleep, his body being wracked with tremors despite a cocoon of blankets.

Wasting no time, she waved her wand over Riddle. "E-_Enervate!_" With a rush of air like he had been recently drowning, Riddle's eyes flew open. "Riddle, stay awake!" she said, grabbing his shoulder to catch his eye.

"A-About t-time, Weasley," he croaked.

"You're sick—" Riddle sucked air sharply through his teeth, glaring away strength he should have spared. "—Fine, obvious, but we want to help you. What do you need?"

It took the wheels in Tom's brain far too long to turn for comfort, but finally he grunted, "I need an Invigoration Draught and a Feverish Potion—to start." Slowly he drew his arm from the blankets. Where the break had been, his arm was now swollen and red. "The bone is—likely infected. I shall need a small—dose of Skele-gro—following the other potions."

Ginny was just beginning to ponder how she would manage to pilfer so many potions from the hospital wing at once, when a bottle of each clattered to the floor beside her. "This is the best room ever," she breathed, holding up the three vials for Riddle. "The green one is for fevers, right?"

Snarling, Riddle snatched a purple vial from her instead. She moved to help him sit up, but he recoiled from her, propped halfway upright against the wall as his hands trembled over the stopper.

"Give me that," she said, ripping the vial from him. She opened it easily and then nearly knocked Riddle's head against the wall in an attempt to haul him into a sitting position. The result had her perched on the edge of the bed, her shoulder propped under his arm and a hand steady on his back. Riddle had gone as rigid as a stake, spilling curses on her even as she handed him the opened vial. He downed it as she worked the next cork out with her teeth and spat it on the floor. When Riddle drank this one, a spasm of strength flooded through his muscles that Ginny felt like heat. She hastened to let go before he could attempt to strangle her, and handed him the Skele-gro from an arm's length.

"Madam Pomfrey would be appalled at my bedside manner," she quipped as he took a steeling breath. Skele-gro was notorious for being nasty stuff, but Riddle drank an entire portion without pause. His coughing turned into a growl and he turned on Ginny, hurling the empty vial at her. She shrieked as it narrowly missed her, shattering on the floor behind her. "Oh, that's nice," she said as Riddle crawled into the circle of his blankets and cradled his arm with his back to her. "You're a real grateful bastard."

She sent her Patronus through the door. "Luna will have brought you water by now. Drink every drop before you go to sleep." She was released swiftly, and let Luna go in with the water after updating her. "Watch out for the glass!" she called as the door swung shut.

Waiting in the corridor, Ginny slid down against the opposite wall, willing her heart to stop pounding like that for the sake of Tom Riddle. Everything would be fine; he was going to get better – and he had bloody thrown glass at her for her trouble! She stewed sourly over this until she realized that just the day before she had cursed Harper for carrying her to the hospital wing. She gasped out a laugh at the comparison, and dug the palms of her hands into her eyes. She was just like Riddle in sickness. How unflattering.

While waiting for Luna, Ginny realized they had missed breakfast, picking up her own potions, and the beginning of the first lesson. At least that was easily solved. By the time Luna emerged, she had calculated where she could best be found collapsed. Merlin only knew she'd had enough medical experience in the past few days to make it convincing.

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**A/N (part 2): **Only one this bothered me while writing this chapter. I was torn between having the Room of Requirement supply the potions (which it did by stealing from the infirmary, since it is impossible to Conjure potions from nothing under my established rules for elemental transfiguration) or having the girls pull off the heist. I went with the former, since I thought Ginny leaving the Room might cut down on the urgency of Tom being sick, but I'm still not sure... Other ideas included Ginny brewing the potions under Tom's watch, or having to remove the bone entirely before growing a new one - but I already had a scene of teacher!Tom and Mediwitch!Ginny at the beginning so I held off. All that really needed to get across was that Tom doesn't like being weak or helped. Thoughts? Rewrite needed? Thanks!


	18. Tides Coming In

Difficulties of Avoidance

by dead2self

**A/N:** Apologies! Between going out of town, getting a new nook and discovering library ebook borrowing, and general writer's block, it's been awhile. I've been reading way more than I've been writing lately. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I feel like I got out the details of what I wanted to happen, but its one that I'd like to go back and touch up the actual writing, since it's characterization heavy and that's important. Anyways, enjoy! As usual, reviews are an incredible encouragement and are very much appreciated.

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Ginny spent a class period resting in the hospital wing, watching Pomfrey flit around for a missing batch of Skele-gro. It became too hard not to laugh, so Ginny performed a miraculous recovery and returned to classes.

Though she had missed the mail at breakfast, Colin had caught a letter for her. She opened it at lunch to find Fred's reply to her question of carrying food. Shockingly, he prattled on about being unable to encourage his baby sister to break school rules. She read it twice for some sort of code, but could make no sense of it. Her only theory was that the twins thoroughly distrusted the owl post, and was abruptly unsure if her letter had been as innocuous as she had believed. She planned to ask them at the wedding and put off sending letters until then.

Happily, going to get her potions became a ready excuse for walking about the castle at uncommon times. She had to be careful about citing it to too many professors at different times, but it worked like a Confundus Charm with Harper. She had only to breath a mention of the hospital wing to put him a spitting rage that nonetheless directed him in the opposite direction. He seemed determined to prove that he did not care about her health, a change that Ginny welcomed. She could only imagine the pantomimes that Gregory and Demelza would produce if they saw Harper fluttering around trying to carry her every time she looked slightly winded.

It came as no surprise that Tom thought her and Luna overbearing as well. He predicted it would take several days and another handful of potions to fully recover, but his familiar acerbic tongue took only one.

"Soup? Surely even you could manage a simple Nourishment Draught that would aid me far better."

She had charmed a bowl of soup purple and poured it in an old potion vial to smuggle it up to the Room straight from dinner. Riddle claimed to taste residual potions in it. It was hardly her mother's chicken noodle soup, but as far as Ginny was concerned, soup was necessary to nurse her cranky patient back to equally vicious health. And Nourishment Draughts were _not_ easy.

"I'm not planning on becoming a Mediwitch," she answered. "If I can't cure it with a Pepper-Up, I'd rather defer to St. Mungo's."

"An elementary knowledge of medical skills can allow one to be discreet," he told her. "With the amount of cursework you sling around, it is astounding that it has never crossed your mind." Riddle stirred in his bed, scowling down at his offending ribs. Ginny imagined they were still sore, but he quickly redirected his irritation to her. "Astounding, and yet not surprising. I admit my curiosity – what _did_ you tell the matron about your curse? That was not the work of an ordinary student."

Ginny was not about to boost his ego, so she told him the truth - mostly the truth. She would leave out how Slughorn had found dusty vials of the necessary potions by sheer chance tucked at the back of the potions lab. Riddle probably guessed how close she had come to dying, but she would not let him appreciate it any more than necessary.

"She was appalled at such Dark magic," she answered, "but between the Petrified students and the near-Dementor attacks and a student murdered by Lord Voldemort and—" She swallowed thickly, and finished counting off on her fingers. "—_near_ werewolf bites, I think that Madam Pomfrey has seen just about everything. In fact, she mentioned she was familiar with the curse after the Department of Mysteries my fourth year."

"The time my Death Eaters overran the Ministry of Magic," he commented with a thin smile. Since recovering he took new pleasure in bringing up unpleasant memories, but Ginny did not mind him bringing up this one.

"You're right – the time Voldemort couldn't take a prophecy away from a fifteen year old boy _and_ lost a duel to Dumbledore that cost him a handful of his closest followers. I was there."

Riddle snarled, but that shut him up until he was finished with the soup. He swung his feet over the edge of the bed, but the threat of Riddle approaching while holding glass was enough to raise Ginny's wand. Quidditch could not help her forever, and that vial looked heavy.

"Stay over there, Riddle. I think we can both agree that you are more dangerous now and even though I don't want to hex you—" Riddle snorted. "—well, not _viciously_ anyways. You're still sick and _I_ have a conscience. The point is, you're going to spend a lot less time unconscious if you keep a safe buffer between the two of us."

Her thoughts summoned two replacement chairs for the charred remains their fight had left behind, and she motioned to the wooden chair. "An couple arm's lengths should be good enough, I suppose. Drop the vial first."

Ginny knew that he contemplated throwing it, but instead he set it on the floor with a clatter and lowered himself back into bed. His lips strained into a grimace as he hauled the blankets over his shoulder and turned to the wall. Ginny heaved a sigh at his melodrama but summoned the empty vial and _Scourgified_ it. It was probably for the best – they were trying to smuggle food straight from dinner to avoid the after-hours restrictions and it would be suspicious if she disappeared for too long.

The next morning Luna emerged from the room with a frown. "He would not talk to me," she said, voice small.

"He's just sulking," Ginny reassured her. "He's done it before."

Luna offered a smile, but her normally wide eyes were half-mast. She watched her shoes all the way down to breakfast. Ginny thought it might be storming outside, but a glance out the window showed only fog rolling over the ground. As they walked through the Entrance Hall, the thunder rumbled from the Great Hall.

They entered a Great Hall in outrage. Some Slytherins had taken up a cheer that was washed out by the jeers coming from the Gryffindor table. Dennis Creevey stood as tall as his tiny frame would allow on the bench, shaking his wand so violently that red sparks shot from it. Ginny cast a glance at the Head Table. A copy of the _Daily Prophet_ had unfortunately found its way atop the candelabra that centered on the table, and behind it McGonagall sat stiff-necked, making no attempt to douse the flames or end the yelling match that escalated between the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables.

"What is going on?" yelled Ginny, and was answered only by Colin shoving a newspaper into her hands. Ginny hardly expected much from the _Daily Prophet_, but what she read made her cry out with indignation.

"New Evidence Uncovered in Death of Dumbledore: Severus Snape Innocent?" read the headline beneath a picture of Snape blinking beadily at the camera. If it was meant to be a look of repentance or long-suffering, Snape wore neither well. Looking across the hall, Ginny finally caught a snatch of the Slytherin cheer – "Justice for Slytherin!" intermixed with "Filthy lying Griffindors!" She shot to her feet beside Dennis, screaming, "Traitors! Friends of murderers!"

Perhaps her red hair made her an easy target, but she was immediately hit with three jinxes at once. Ginny hit the table, scattering dishes with jerking arms and tentacles growing out her ears. With a roar, the Gryffindors fired back, and the Hufflepuffs dove beneath their table. Several Ravenclaws in the crossfire followed their example, others yelling for order, but their own Head Girl was slinging curses point blank at the Slytherin table.

"THAT IS ENOUGH!" roared McGonagall from the Head Table, stilling the room. Her wand was to her throat and the terrible expression on her face as she stood at full height stopped the dueling. "I HAVE NEVER SEEN SUCH AN UNCOUTH DISPLAY OF MAGIC IN ALL MY DAYS AS A TEACHER." Picking up on the mood, the ceiling of the hall thundered and crashed, disregarding the foggy weather Ginny had observed walking down. McGonagall's glare flicked to the ceiling, but when she spoke again, she was no longer screaming. Voice still amplified, she intoned, "I will have one hundred and fifty points from both Slytherin and Gryffindor." She cut off the resounding groan with a swift glance, nostrils flaring, and continued, "An additional fifty points from Ravenclaw. Miss Lovegood, you are the Head Girl. Dueling in the Great Hall is simply unacceptable behavior. We will speak further after breakfast."

The Ravenclaw table grumbled while Ginny climbed off the table and glared at Harper. She was sure he had been dueling too, but the sheer number of Slytherin students must have hidden him. Sure enough, he was nodding along with McGonagall, staring down Luna like a wolf about to eat breakfast. Luna had gone pink to her ears, clashing horribly with her hair, which had turned violently orange and shocked out straight in all directions. Ginny herself smacked Demelza twice in the stomach before her friends could reverse the Arm-Flailing Jinx on her. McGonagall looked like she wanted to go on, but the collection of strange ailments throughout the hall prompted her to send students to the hospital wing instead. Ginny got an earful from Madam Pomfrey, as if she had asked to be jinxed just to exasperate her condition.

The entire school was in a foul mood, excepting the Hufflepuffs who had pulled ahead in the House Cup for the first time all year. This combined with McGonagall's murderous atmosphere in Transfiguration class put Ginny in a sour mood the rest of the day. She smashed meatloaf for Tom into a vial at dinner and turned it green under the table. It looked nothing like a potion, but she did not think that even Harper would empty her bag. She hurried up to the Room, catching Luna's eye in the Entrance Hall. Harper was currently engaged convincing her to turn in her badge, a crusade he had taken up after breakfast. Luna's hair still had an orange tint, and her face showed she was not having a good day either. Ginny slipped upstairs before Harper saw her.

When she levitated the bottled meatloaf to Riddle, he snatched it from the air with reluctance. "Better than soup, isn't it?" she snapped at the look on his face.

Riddle regarded her through half-lidded eyes. "Is it another thrilling gossip column on the tragedy of Ginevra Weasley?" he asked.

"Ha ha," she droned. "Worse than that."

"I can hardly imagine." He shifted to sit straighter and caught her eye. "It seems pointless to keep secrets any longer. Do tell."

That was true at least, so Ginny crossed her arms and said, "They're claiming Snape is innocent, that Harry was just mistaken when he witnessed Snape _murder_ Dumbledore."

"Ah," said Riddle, a smile growing on his face that said he was connecting dots that Ginny had not. "Brilliant."

"I want to send a letter to the editor that gives him boils for a month," she shot back, determined not to dwell on Tom's fear tactics. "Any desire to help with that?"

"Intriguing, but no." He attempted to slurp meatloaf out of the vial while Ginny remembered that she should have brought a fork. Still, not even Tom Riddle could look dignified with a potions flask full of meatloaf, and a reminder that he was human was welcome amidst ever more frequent jabs at her paranoia. Along those lines, his sickness could not have been timelier.

"Are you going thank us for saving your life?" she asked at the thought, though she expected his response. She fell back into the armchair while he stiffened.

"I healed myself," he barked, but her gall propelled him closer, within the circle of chairs around the low table. He set the meatloaf aside with disdain – for her question or the food, she could not make out. "You had no idea what you were doing."

"If I hadn't been here you would have stayed wrapped up in your blankets, _knowing_ how to cure yourself and dying anyways." His weight was gathered on one back leg, like he might pounce at any moment, so Ginny kept her wand trained on him and motioned to his new wooden chair.

Riddle gave the chair a dismissive glance. "The injury you caused and your neglect was the cause of my illness. I see no reason to be grateful. Had I a wand, it would have posed no issue."

"I suppose we know you haven't got a spare tucked away," she said, jabbing her finger at the chair.

"I no longer have a need for that wand," he said. Raising an eyebrow, he settled into the chair and propped one foot upon his knee, a picturesque nonchalance. "I will incapacitate you and steal yours."

Ginny's heart thundered into an unsteady gallop, but she spun her wand around her fingers with a flourish and caught it. She raised an eyebrow back at him. "How do you plan on doing that? I've got six brothers, Riddle. I'm sorry, but you're not going to wrestle this thing away from _me_."

"You speak with undue confidence," he answered, waving away her claim. "I am giving you fair warning, Weasley, just as before. Never let it be said that I am not a gracious foe."

Ginny could not restrain a chuckle. Riddle regarded her with a steady eye, lips not twitching a millimeter. "If not that, at least one with a sense of humor." He remained still and she ventured, "Not a joke? You really think you're a gracious person?"

"Your life has been spared more times than you know in the last month," he said. "Although you irked me daily, I did not kill you blindly."

"Well sign you up for the Order of Merlin, First Class!" Ginny crowed. She swept her arms wide like an announcer at a Quidditch match. "Ladies and gentlemen! Tom Riddle did not try to kill me at the slightest annoyance – only when he was sure he wouldn't have to face the greatest wizard of our age. Fifty points to Slytherin!"

Riddle's mouth turned up in clear long-suffering patience as he cocked his head towards her. "You may be glib if you like, but please spare me your attempts to project your frivolous morality on me."

"Frivolous? I think the majority rules that trying to kill people is wrong, Riddle."

"A majority of people believes that killing me would be quite the opposite. Indeed, your friends are likely plotting murder as we speak."

"That's not the same," Ginny insisted as she watched Riddle's brow inch higher. "Oh no, don't pretend you have the moral high ground," she continued, cutting off his response. "Whoever makes a Horcrux loses the high ground on principle."

Riddle did not answer, but regarded her like a child running around with her mum's wand. Sensing that their conversation was closed, Ginny asked if he was planning on finishing his dinner. He was not.

Ginny was trying to _Scourgify_ stubborn bits of green meatloaf from the glass on her way back to the common room when she found Harper and Luna in a heated whispered argument on the landing of the grand staircase.

"What was that light you shot off?" Harper hissed as Ginny tried to slip past. She may as well have been leading the basilisk across the landing the way his mouth twisted when he caught sight of her. "_Of course_, Weasley is up here!"

"I'm in _Gryffindor_," she said, taking no care to keep her voice down. "It's _Gryffindor Tower_. We're all up here."

"You know what I mean." He turned back on Luna and suddenly his wand was in his hand. She had never dueled him in class, but it turned out Harper was proficient at non-verbal spells – Ginny hit the floor in a Full-Body Bind before she had a chance to blink. Luna let out a short yelp, but cut off when Harper turned the wand back on her, spine ramrod straight. From the floor, Ginny could appreciate that Harper actually looked dangerous.

"I did not want it to come to this," he breathed to Luna, "but you are ruining everything I've worked for since fifth year. But what would you know of that?" he asked, eyes glinting. "For Merlin's sake, you weren't even a prefect before this year. But I know you are doing something dangerous and I simply cannot allow you to discolor my record, not when a career can be built on a exemplary year as Head Boy."

Luna was not moving, arms tight against her side and watching the tip of Harper's wand with glassy deer eyes. _Wand, Luna, draw your wand!_ Ginny thought, but her jaw was locked shut.

"Do not be frightened," continued Harper. "I promise I will only direct you to McGonagall's office to tender your resignation and explain what you have been plotting with Weasley all year. I won't make you do anything else. Of course, you will not be able to remember this conversation, either of you, but it's for the best. Whatever you're doing, you obviously have no control over it and I'm just putting a stop to it before you get yourselves killed."

Before Ginny could fully digest what Harper intended to do – the various disasters it would cause – Luna opened her mouth. "I have never had the Imperius Curse placed on me, Thomsen Harper," she said as though they were discussing this month's _Quibbler_, "but I have read about it. Resisting the curse requires great strength of the mind and sense of self. I doubt you are much practiced at the curse and I am confident in my natural ability to fight it, though I have no practice." Her voice struck their air like a quavering bell. Harper's wand wavered and Luna took a step closer so that it was nearly touching her chest. She tilted her head to match his gaze. "Perhaps you can make me talk to McGonagall, but you cannot control me the rest of the year. If you don't let Ginny up and leave us alone, I swear I'll—I'll kiss you in the middle of the Great Hall! I swear I will."

Harper's breath hitched and had Ginny not been frozen, her jaw would have dropped. She was fairly certain Luna had never snogged a boy in her life, but she could easily imagine Luna marching straight to the Slytherin table and planting a matter-of-fact kiss on the Head Boy. From the horror on Harper's face, he was picturing the same.

"Beyond that, once I'm free I'll tell McGonagall how you've been helping us from the beginning. It will be our word against yours, and you _are_ a Slytherin. Who is she likely to believe?" Harper mouthed a protest soundlessly, coloring from anger, and Luna blinked slowly in contrast. "You can make me forget this conversation, but not that I dislike you. We will want to bring you down with us."

Ginny saw the wheels turning in Harper's head. He was truly trapped now – if he cursed Luna his reputation was at risk, but sparing her left him with two girls he had threatened with the Imperius Curse.

It was truly one of Luna's finest moments, but they did not get the chance to appreciate it. Harper's jaw locked and he stabbed his wand at Luna, who jerked back, eyes going cloudy. Then Ginny felt the Bind fall away like concrete draining from her veins and was halfway to her feet before her mind went white.

Blinking fiercely to clear her head, Ginny spotted Harper backing away from an apparent argument with Luna. Harper looked capable of murder, so Ginny tried to slip past unnoticed. She need not have worried. Harper grunted, "Just don't come crying to me when Weasley gets herself killed," and swept back in the direction of the dungeons.

"What was that about?" Ginny asked, coming forward once he was out of earshot.

Luna shook her head, pawing at the air around her ears, mumbling, "Curse these Wrackspurts—Oh, I don't know; I think I may have stopped listening around the middle bit. I often stop listening to Harper."

"Knew you were in Ravenclaw for a reason. So, why were you up here?"

"Oh!" cried Luna, eyes going alight. "The Patronus. That's what we were arguing about – he spotted a bit of my Patronus when I shot it off and chased it this way."

Ginny frowned. "We'll need to be more careful. In fact, tomorrow I suppose we should just leave him with enough food to last the weekend. It will be too dicey trying to shoot off a Patronus at the wedding." Luna agreed and quickly Ginny relayed that Riddle was both talking again and threatening to steal her wand. Delighted, Luna left for her common room to prepare a new Wrackspurt ward for Tom as a morning peace offering. "I've just noticed they are _all over_ the seventh floor," she confided in Ginny, who did not have the heart to tell her that Tom would think it was foolish.

It was only delaying the inevitable, for Luna emerged from the Room in the morning still carrying the strange sash of radishes she had fashioned. She reported with a brave smile that Riddle refused to acknowledge her again. Luckily, breakfast provided some humor. For whatever reason, Harper fairly dove beneath the Slytherin table when Luna passed, upending a plate of bacon into Astoria Greengrass' lap.

Still, Harper's antics were nothing next to Riddle's.

Between them, Luna and Ginny had managed to smuggle leftovers from every meal up to the ticklish witch's passageway and Ginny headed straight there after dinner to move it all into the Room. Luna redirected foot traffic by citing Peeves in a murderous mood, and Ginny slipped into the Room while juggling enough food to serve a small family.

"Good evening Ginevra," said Riddle next to her ear.

It was a close thing that Ginny did not drop every ounce of food, but she channeled her shock into a yell: "_Two arm's lengths!_"

"Yours or mine?" he asked, not backing away.

Judging his arms longer than hers, she snapped, "Yours, of course."

"My apologies for the confusion," he murmured, stepping back the appropriate amount. Ginny recognized the polite tone as a shadow of Riddle the Head Boy, the first boy she had encountered in the diary.

"Stop that," she said, levitating the spare food to an empty corner of the room.

"I am doing nothing unsavory, surely," he said. "I thought perhaps you would join me for dinner."

"Stop pretending to be polite. And I already ate," she answered, studying his demure smile. "So you're talking to me, but you won't talk to Luna?"

"I am polite," he said, ignoring her question.

"Did the fever mess with your head?" she asked. "I don't have time for this. I just need to make sure you're settled for the weekend since I'm going away for Bill's wedding."

"Please, Ginevra," Riddle answered, taking a step between her and the door, "I must insist. I will not keep you long, but I think it is time we have an _honest_ conversation." She was almost relieved to see the predatory smile peel back his lips. This, at least, was familiar.

Huffing, Ginny stomped across the room and sat down. Riddle had angled the two chairs to face each other without the table separating them, though they remained a proper length apart.

"Allow me to set the tone," said Riddle as he joined her. "Yes, you are correct. It seems to distress the little fool."

It took Ginny a few moments to realize that he was answering her question about Luna. She bristled under his amused stare. "Being ignored won't faze Luna. She's more resilient than you think."

"You do not treat her as such, and she takes notice."

That needled unpleasantly in Ginny's stomach. "I thought you were going to be honest. I've seen honesty on you before, and it's not pretty. Isn't there usually more spitting and broken bones involved?"

"You'd like me to tell you I want to kill you? I thought you did not wish me to repeat old history. I apologize – I do indeed want to kill you, to duel you into submission, and cast the Cruciatus Curse until an Imperius is not necessary. That has been my most fervent desire for some months now."

Ginny's stomach turned and Riddle laughed at her. Luckily, she had still stuffed tonight's dinner into potions vials and watching him try to coax shepherd's pie stuck to the bottom into his mouth made Ginny laugh also.

"Why don't we talk about the elephant in the room?" Ginny said as he scowled at her humor. "Voldemort is back." Tom got a carrot to the eye when he tipped the jar back, and his cursing gave Ginny time to measure her words. "What does that mean… for you? To you?" she asked.

"Need you ask?" he said, scrubbing at his face. He set the food aside and sat straight. "If I have been brought to the future, then I clearly have need for myself. I will gladly heed the call when I escape."

It was the first time Tom had spoken about joining Voldemort and Ginny regretted asking the moment he opened his mouth. Fear settled in her stomach like a stone. When she could say nothing, could think of no way to spin the conversation away from their inevitable failure, Riddle cast her a well-acted sympathetic glance.

"This must dishearten you, dear Ginevra. You want to _change_ me. To turn me on myself."

Ginny blinked out of her stupor. She had not been aware that he had gleaned _that_ information from her head. "You want me to apologize?" she sneered.

"Hardly. It is a rational endeavor, albeit a fruitless one." Ginny just managed to bite back replying, "I know," and watched him tap a finger on his jaw. Still, there was a growing buzz at the back of her head – anger, annoyance, something that made her skin feel too tight. Riddle leaned forward on his knees, every tooth showing and eyes glittering.

"I'll tell you what I plan to do, so that we may be equal and _honest_ with one another. I will be the perfect prisoner. I'll suffer your inane questions and help with your homework. I won't lay a finger on Lovegood, so you need not worry. You will doubt my sincerity and remind yourself that I've told you what I am doing. But you will wonder – hope – what if he has _changed_? But I will not have forgotten my promise."

"Every hex, every broken bone, right?" she recited, staving off a shudder with levity. "Guess you'll have to add another few bones to the tally. And your plan has a problem – I don't think it's possible for you to change," she admitted. "I can't speak for Luna, but I can't imagine you being anything but a completely soulless prat. That's not the point." She met his eye with mettle daring him to try to understand what she was thinking. It was a puzzle that she had not realized she was assembling until those words left her mouth, pieced together with pillow lines on his face, broken bones, forged essays, potion bottle dinners, and even the nightmares from her first year.

"Since we are being honest, what, _Ginevra_, is the point?"

"Haven't you worked it out yet? We're protecting ourselves, but we're protecting you too, you git!" she snapped. "You have no idea… if there was so much as a _whisper_ that a young Lord Voldemort was living at Hogwarts, you'd be dead before you could say Dementor's Kiss. And that's if Voldemort doesn't find you first."

"Do not patronize me. _I_ am Lord Voldemort."

"Of the _past_. You said it yourself: the Voldemort of the present, the one who pulled you forward out of time, has other plans for you. You say he needs you, but I suspect it's not in _your_ best interest."

"What is in his best interest _is_ my best interest," Tom snarled. "We are the same person."

"You have changed a lot, Riddle. You're emancipated, ugly, and your soul is ripped to shreds. You—"

"—are ridiculously powerful. Just like I've always desired." Ginny trembled slightly as his dark eyes blazed down at her. He had shot to his feet. "What I am now has been, and always will be, my greatest aspiration. If by using my younger, fuller self I become more powerful, it is only to my gain."

Ginny was surprised to feel herself shaking with anger, not for all the things Tom Riddle had done, but because he was willing to sacrifice himself for—for what? She leapt out of her chair. "You—You're—You're insufferable!" she sputtered.

"You're simply unable to grasp the complexities of the situation."

"_You_ don't know what you're talking about. _You_ don't know him—"

Riddle's cold voice cut her off. "I know myself better than anyone else. Do not be presumptuous."

He spoke with a finality that was chilling, but Ginny was not quick to back down either. Planting her fists on her hips as she had seen her mother do countless times with her brothers, she shouted, "_You _should stop being presumptuous. He's going to kill you!"

Tom regarded the blazing-eyed girl with an air of exasperation. "I _can't_ die; you, of all people, should know that."

"The Horcruxes are all going to be—"

"Do not be so confident in your boy-hero and that coot's best-laid plans. In any case, if I am killed, I suppose my consciousness would merely merge with that of my present self. In the best case scenario, my soul would also be absorbed, thus negating what little damage your Horcrux-hunters manage to dole out."

Raking her fingers through her hair, Ginny finally threw her hands in the air and shrieked with frustration. "How can someone who's so smart be so bloody _stupid!_" she screamed. "Maybe some people don't _want_ you to become some hanger-on spirit in a barely human, deformed old man! _Maybe _some people don't want you to screw up your life! Maybe _I_ would prefer that you stay you and not become _him_!"

Ginny had forced him to take a step back, and for once, Tom looked completely baffled. His hands were relaxed and hung at his side without him noticing, but he was carefully scrutinizing Ginny. Calculating, she noticed, not touched. "What?" he snapped. "Don't you hate me?"

Ginny glared fiercely. "Well, I _should_."

"You are not speaking sense. Explain."

"I don't like you either, if that's what you're asking. You are a very intelligent, very gifted wizard Riddle, I will give you that, but you know nothing about people."

"Please, I know more about people than—"

"You know how to manipulate people, Tom; it is not the same thing. You do not have the slightest inkling of what a relationship with another human being is like. What you have become now, Lord Voldemort, is the furthest extreme of that flaw. _You_ still haven't gone that far." Ginny saw rage building in Tom's lips, but she pushed on, the words tumbling out of her mouth before he could stop them. "Yes, he is powerful, but for what purpose? He can't be happy. Take a step out of yourself for just a second and ask yourself: what do you really want?"

"I want power," Tom answered without pause, but Ginny imagined the faintest hint of doubt in the set of his mouth.

"Of course you do," she said sadly. For a moment it seemed the conversation was over. But then Ginny asked, "Why?"

Silence stretched between them until finally he said, "So you are calling me Tom again? How nostalgic."

"What do you care what I call you?" she grumbled.

"I do not want you to get the impression that we are friends, Weasley."

"No worries there. I don't think you could have a friend if you tried!" They locked eyes, toe-to-toe and glowering, and simultaneously realized that they were breaking Ginny's two-arms-length rule by a wide margin. Riddle shifted forward like a cat while Ginny backpedaled gracelessly.

"A-Alright then," she stammered, furious that her voice betrayed her. "So you've got enough food, I've got a wedding to attend… Fixing to be an excellent weekend."

* * *

It hardly seemed possible, but the Burrow was in a state of chaos more advanced than Christmas. Ginny found herself grateful that Hogwarts had not allowed her to miss classes, for she arrived on the eve of the wedding after most of the chores were through. Fred and George were still hard at work charming together an impossible number of golden balloons and they mouthed 'traitor' at her over her mum's shoulder while she trundled her things through the kitchen.

Four beds had been fitted into Ginny's room for guests, so tightly packed that Ginny could hardly open her own door. It took some effort and cursing to push her trunk through the opening, but when she clamored through over it, she spotted a familiar head of hair, even more frizzy than normal.

"Hermione!" Ginny cried, scrambling across two beds to reach her. Hermione glanced up from her reading just as Ginny tackled her in a hug. The both sat up laughing after Ginny dislodged herself from between two beds and Hermione stowed the hefty black tome she had been reading inside a small beaded bag. "How are you?" asked Ginny. "For some reason I didn't think I'd see you until tomorrow."

"Yes, well, with Grimmauld Place being the way it is, Mrs. W—Molly insisted."

"Molly?" Ginny laughed. Hermione sniffed, pulling her shoulders back.

"We graduated nearly a year ago, and we _are_ members of the Order. It's only right that we are a first name basis with the other members."

"So Mum is insisting?" Ginny asked and watched Hermione deflate.

"Yes," she admitted. "I suspect she thinks that if she ties us closely enough to the Order, we won't go away."

"Go away?"

"No one else knows about the Horcruxes," she said. "And we've had rotten luck finding any with everyone _hovering_. We've been waiting for the wedding, but we'll be off on our own to follow some leads."

"Don't tell me any more!" Ginny said, thinking that she did not want to avoid Riddle's eyes again. "I don't want to know. Just in case."

"Oh, right," Hermione said, flushing. "Er, so how is Hogwarts?"

Thankful for the change of subject, Ginny told her about their arguments with Harper and her confrontation with Slughorn. They both had a good bout of anger over the _Daily Prophet_ (which Hermione reported was well in the Dark Lord's pocket), and Ginny related the incident in the Great Hall to the horrified former Head Girl. Hermione told her about the Minister of Magic's surprise visit a few days earlier and the incident with Dumbledore's will. They had all been staying at the Burrow since Dumbledore's death, as the Order worried that the headquarters was compromised at Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Ginny felt a small stab of resentment that Dumbledore had considered her an Order member for taking care of Tom, but she had not heard an inkling about Order business in months. Hermione assured her that they would have owled, but the heavily infiltrated Ministry was watching the post.

Both girls carefully avoided any direct mention of Harry Potter or Tom Riddle. They talked until Fleur and her sister Gabrielle entered the room in a nervous flurry, insisting on absolute silence so that the bride could get a full night's sleep. Ginny was grateful for Hermione's tact, but she could not help letting her thoughts turn to Harry when silence fell. It would probably be best that she not talk with him, but knowing he was sleeping just a few floors above her put her stomach in knots. It was the first time Ginny had been thankful that Fleur asked her to be a bridesmaid. It would keep her busy most of the day.

By noon, Ginny decided it would also be the last time she had any goodwill towards Fleur for the honor. Her hair had been tugged every which way and curled around a wand until her scalp tingled. It did not help that she was getting ready next to Gabrielle Delacour, who made Ginny feel like a shrivelfig in comparison. Worse, amidst the rapid French between Gabrielle and her sister, the name "'Arry Potter" came up often. In the very least, their dresses were beautiful. Ginny would not have put it past Fleur to choose pink dresses to clash with Weasley hair, but instead found herself in a fabulous golden dress.

Ginny managed to get into the kitchen for lunch, but her brothers and Harry were already outside waiting for the guests. She shared the table with the sniffling Madame Delacour, who looked stunning even while dabbing away tear streaks. Then, before she knew it, she was being hustled outside for the ceremony. She spotted a red-haired boy from Ottery St. Catchpole, and with start realized that it must be Harry, disguised for the wedding. He did not see her, but she noted his seat. When the ceremony started and he could not tear his eyes from her, she thought she might thank Fleur after all.

The wedding was beautiful and with Muriel making comments about her dress, Ginny kept entertained. She winked at Harry once before she remembered that she was not meant to be talking with him, and a wink would probably lead to a dance, which would probably lead to a conversation. It was better to focus on Bill, who was beaming like Greyback had never happened, and Ginny struggled to keep her eyes dry.

Once the reception was underway, Ginny gravitated to the twins and their friends, who were always good for a laugh. Fred and George reassured her that they were fully supportive of her rule-breaking and taught her a spell that would keep messy food safe inside a bag. They practiced by ferreting the wedding cake away for some time until Mrs. Weasley looked apoplectic. Ginny spotted Luna's father in blinding yellow robes and wished that Luna could have come; she would probably have an explanation for the gaudy dress. Ginny took turns with Lee Jordan guessing at it, and ended up on the dance floor with him when the twins disappeared with some stuffy veela cousins.

Several partners later she spotted Harry looking rather sour, and Ginny contemplated going to introduce herself to new "cousin Barny" to relieve him of Aunt Muriel's company. She excused herself from a dance with Charlie and started across the dance floor, when a silver linx dropped through the canopy over the reception. Ginny stumbled back from it as it landed, gleaming, in front of her. Dancers froze around her as the Patronus opened its mouth, issuing Kingsley Shacklebolt's voice.

"_The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming._"

* * *

**A/N II: **Here's to spoiling the seventh book! Huzzah!


	19. Dangerous Currents

Difficulties of Avoidance

by dead2self

**A/N:** Hello again! It's been another one of those long hiatuses - many apologies as usual. I give the full credit of this chapter going up to those of you who recently reviewed or PMed me, reminding me that this story exists and people read it. Nothing is a better kick in the pants to write! I have been writing this story for such a long time that the answer to "Are you continuing this?" will always be yes: I just can't give it up at this point. The speed is, obviously, just very slow. That being said, to anyone who is still around, I hope you enjoy this chapter! I greatly enjoyed writing it.

* * *

The silence left behind by the lynx as it faded was eerie. Ginny watched Harry leap to his feet, Hermione beside him, before the crowd on the dance floor erupted into movement. She cried out Harry's name and tried to push toward them, only to be seized around the arm by Charlie and hauled backwards. Cracks echoed – Apparation, the wards around the Burrow were broken – and Ginny caught sight of figures in masks, raising their wands.

"Charlie—Harry—let go—!" she shrieked.

"_Protego!_" thundered Charlie, warding off some sinister burst of light. He gripped Ginny's elbow so hard that she cried out and then she felt him start to turn.

"My wand is in the house!" she shrieked, twisting hard in the opposite direction. With a jerk, they took off running, jostled by guests. Charlie's feet pounded the ground hard as he yelled curses on impractical Muggle dresses with no pockets, but they reached the kitchen where Ginny had left her wand. Charlie stood sentry on the door, watching as a growing number of masked wizards converged on the house. Most of the guests had Apparated away, but when Ginny joined Charlie at the door with wand in hand, she spotted Fleur with her hands bound behind her back, and Bill struggling rabidly against three wizards. Ginny surged forward, but Charlie grabbed her by the waist and pulled her deeper into the house.

"Let me go!" she wailed, struggling. "We have to help them!"

"Ginny, listen!" Charlie insisted, shaking her sharply. "Whatever they do to us, they aren't going to do it to you. You have to Apparate to Hogsmeade and get to Hogwarts. You'll be safe there. Even the Ministry can't take down their wards."

Ginny wretched away from him, but Charlie stood between her and any exit. "I'm not leaving!"

"They're going to ask us about Harry. If you don't do it yourself then I'll Side-Along Apparate with you and probably Splinch us both." He reached for her and she danced away, remembering his disastrous first attempt at the Apparition License. They both jumped as the kitchen door crashed open. Charlie caught her eye as the sound of trampling feet flooded into the house. "Ginny, go!" he yelled, turning with his wand out.

_Harry was not the only person they would ask about._

Squeezing her eyes shut, Ginny concentrated hard on somewhere out of the way in Hogsmeade – the Shrieking Shack – and turned. She had only Apparated a handful of times since her test just after her birthday in the summer; it had never seemed like she would need it at school. Her eyes were already closed, but her breath got crushed from her lungs. The feeling of getting shoved through a too-small space was never pleasant, but when Ginny opened her eyes and saw the dilapidated house, she would have volunteered to take the pain on tenfold in thanks.

Shouts were coming from the village, so Ginny charged toward the castle through the underbrush. She sent a Patronus ahead, hoping that Luna would understand its meaning and fetch a professor to open the gates. She had not yet gotten a handle on speaking through her Patronus.

Ginny arrived at the school gates, still barred, but sighted McGonagall approaching from within. "Thank goodness," called Ginny, moving into the Acting Headmistress' wandlight.

Professor McGonagall jumped back, startling her pointed hat from her head. "Miss Weasley!" she cried, stooping to reclaim it. "What in Merlin's name are you doing out here?"

"The Burrow—The wards went down and there were Death Eaters everywhere. Didn't Luna tell you to get me?"

McGonagall swiped her wand over the gate and it swung open with a creak that did not sound inviting. "Get inside Miss Weasley. Go straight to your dormitory. I will see to it that Hogwarts' records indicate you never left the castle."

In their combined wandlight, Ginny saw that her professor's face was white and stretched. Her stomach felt as though it had turned to water, but she forced herself to ask, "Why are you at the gates if you weren't here for me?"

Professor McGonagall's nostrils flared. "I must welcome our new Headmaster. To the castle, Miss Weasley, and be quick about it." Ginny glimpsed three pinpricks of light coming from the direction of Hogsmeade and fled up the path.

* * *

Breakfast in the morning was utterly silent. Even the Slytherins seemed slightly cowed by the sight of Severus Snape sitting at the center of the Head Table, calmly eating breakfast while his staff left their plates untouched. Only two individuals were eating with disgusting exuberance, the new teachers that Snape had introduced briefly the evening before. Students had been dragged from their common rooms after-hours for the announcement: Severus Snape was the new Headmaster and the two Death Eaters that Ginny recognized from the battle several weeks earlier would be teaching Defense and Muggle Studies, a class which would be mandatory in the next term. The Muggle Studies post was not vacant, but no one had seen Charity Burbage since her trip into London on Friday to buy a replica television.

Ginny pushed food around her plate, gut clenching against the thought of eating. While Snape sat up there, occasionally wiping away spittle that flew his way from his ravenous Deputy Headmaster, Ginny still had no word about her family or Harry. With Harry, that was probably for the best. Surely if he had been captured, it would have been proclaimed from the pages of the _Daily Prophet_ instead Pius Thicknesse's appointment to Minister of Magic following Rufus Scrimgeour's untimely and _natural_ death. Harry was given only a small notice warning wizards to be aware that Potter and various allies were at large and dangerous. Dennis and Colin were staring with eyes like tennis balls at the picture of Harry scowling and warding off the cameraman. Every so often, he brandished his wand with a little shake, and Ginny wondered when the picture had been taken. She was suddenly aware that she had not even spoken to Harry at the Burrow and swallowed back the tears pricking her eyes.

Among the readers at Hogwarts, the warning played second fiddle to the headline declaring Severus Snape had been acquitted of all crimes and unanimously selected as the new Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Every time she caught sight of Snape at the Head Table, a shiver ran down her spine that boiled her blood as it went. She kept clenching her fists beneath the table, digging her nails into her leg to remind herself that unless Harry's stories from his fifth year were overblown, Snape was a skilled Legilimens. She wanted to glare up at the new staff in defiance, but memories of Dumbledore dismissing Snape from the Burrow kitchen over Christmas reminded her that the Headmaster had not fully trusted him even then. She could not risk catching his eye.

The scrape of a chair thundered in the echoing hall, and Snape drew every eye as he stood. His hair swung in oily sheets around his stark white face and Ginny had never considered him as revolting as she did now. "Attention," he said unnecessarily, pausing to appreciate the completed silence. "There are a few matters of importance to discuss that, in the interest of time, were ignored last evening. The Ministry of Magic appreciates that Hogwarts has been thrown into turmoil over the past month. Academic standards have certainly… dropped… in my absence." His face twisted into something between humor and disgust, but before he could continue a clatter rose from the other end of the Gryffindor table.

"Because you killed him!" squeaked Dennis, on his feet and quivering like an autumn leaf. "You killed Dumbledore!" Snape's mouth dipped in displeasure, but he was not the first to react.

"_Confringo!_" roared the lumpy witch to Snape's left. The spell narrowly missed Dennis, and the students scattered in panic as a section of the table exploded into flames. Ginny found herself on her feet and drawing her wand before Demelza hugged her bodily and dragged her back to the bench. McGonagall stood to her full height, but before the violence could escalate, Snape extinguished the fire with a simple sweep of his wand.

"_Sit down,_ Mr. Creevey," he growled in a voice so quiet it should not have been heard. Slowly, Gryffindors crawled back to their bench, but Dennis was still rooted to the spot, staring blankly down at the blackened table. A small snarl escaped Amycus Carrow's throat as he raised his wand, and Ginny realized that Dennis was not going to move.

"Dennis!" Ginny snapped, and his head whipped around. His eyes looked wildly confused, but she caught his glance and inclined her head. Shaking, Dennis lowered into his seat and Ginny felt attention shift to her.

"I gave no one permission to speak, Miss Weasley," drawled Snape. "Ten points from Gryffindor."

Ginny knew that she should probably keep her eyes down, but the sneer in his voice raised her chin. She locked eyes on the Head Table with her jaw tight.

"I should think that in light of your family's questionable history, you would elect to keep your head down. It would be most unfortunate for you to make trouble now."

New rage swelled up in Ginny's chest at the threat. They had welcomed him into their home! Merlin, she had made tea for him at Grimmauld Place countless times over past summers. His smirk was hard and grim, but never wavered from her as if he was kept waiting. With a start at the _audacity_ of what he expected, Ginny ground out, "Yes, Sir," between clenched teeth and then resumed a diligent study of the table grain.

When his gaze left her, Ginny let her breath out all at once. There had been no mad rush to open the Room of Requirement. By the time she had finished grinning stupidly into her glass of pumpkin juice, Snape had moved on, talking about evaluators who would be observing their classes over the next few days to determine how far behind they were. She fought not to roll her eyes – in a few weeks she would take her N.E.W.T.s and he would have no more say over her.

Then the thought nearly bowled her from the bench: she would be leaving Hogwarts the first week of June. It had barely passed through her mind with all the activity of the past month, but somewhere at the back of her mind, Ginny had always assumed that they would have to tell McGonagall about Tom Riddle against Dumbledore's orders and leave him in her care. Now that idea seemed even more terrible. McGonagall no longer had the same authority in Hogwarts, and would likely be spending a lot of time with the new Headmaster. They would have to turn to her only as a last resort, and they would certainly have to move him—

A roar of indignation shook Ginny from her thoughts. "What did he say?" she whispered to Demelza.

"They're cancelling Easter break!" Demelza wailed. Ginny's mouth dropped open – the trains would have been due to depart that afternoon.

"Rest assured that a two-week holiday will be allowed at a future date," said Snape over the squall. "Dangerous wizards have been stirring up unrest against the Ministry of Magic. Until such time that the Ministry can guarantee safe travels, students will not be permitted to leave Hogwarts. Your parents and guardians have been informed."

The Carrows looked stir-crazy trying to decide which of the protesting students to hex first, but Snape raised his arms, looking precisely like an overgrown bat. "SILENCE!" he roared. Indignation petered to frightened quiet at the sight of his eyes. Ginny had not seen that look since her family had barged in on Sirius and Snape preparing to duel nearly three Christmases ago. It looked more frightening now.

It was only then that Snape turned to McGonagall, who was still standing stiff as a flagpole in a space two seats down from her usual seat next to the Headmaster. "Do you have something you would like to address, Minerva?" he simmered.

"Yes, Headmaster," McGonagall replied with bite. "Perhaps you have forgotten that _we_ _do not hex students at Hogwarts as punishment_."

The severe chill that drifted through her voice did not affect Snape, who inclined his head to her. "The unhappy task of determining punishments – and the criteria surrounding discipline – has also traditionally fallen to the Headmaster and his Deputies," he said. "Students will be punished in a manner appropriate to their misdemeanors." Alecto Carrow gave a wheezy laugh that McGonagall ignored.

"No offense requires more than detentions or deducting house points," she replied. The brim of her hat appeared to be quaking, but she met Snape's eye solidly. "In my tenure as a professor, I have seen even Death Eaters abide by these rules."

In the pause that followed, Ginny was certain that Snape was going to curse her. Both his Death Eater teachers looked to him in anticipation until finally he arched his brow. "Indeed? You must regale me at a later time, Professor McGonagall. For the time being, you have reminded me that the Professors Carrow have volunteered to oversee all disciplinary efforts at Hogwarts for this and all future terms. Please confer with them if you have any questions regarding the topic."

The Carrows leered at McGonagall who, after peering aghast at the Headmaster, stiffly resumed her seat. The entirety of Gryffindor could breathe again and an uncomfortable murmur rippled across the hall. It was on this note that Snape dismissed the breakfast for classes. Masked by the noise of shoes and benches, Ginny charmed some food and scooped it into her bag like Fred and George had shown her. She would miss the potions bottles, but it was no longer prudent to draw attention to last week's attack.

Ginny's first class, Ancient Runes while Luna had Care of Magical Creatures, was her first encounter with the evaluators of whom Snape had spoken. The dotty old wizard spent the morning lecture walking about the classroom, running into desks, and muttering, "Hopeless, hopeless," even as the Ravenclaws in the class routinely answered Professor Babbling's questions. Ginny suspected a hastily executed Imperius Curse – in the very least the man looked Confounded. The witch who took notes during Professor McGonagall's class looked like her sanity was even more precarious than the last.

"What precisely do you find wrong with this student's work?" huffed McGonagall, rushing to save a porcupine that had swelled to the size of a balloon when the woman poked it with her wand.

"Quite right," the witch replied, "atrocious. Poor dears."

Ginny thought Latisha Randle, a Ravenclaw with a mean streak, might hex the woman for calling her perfectly conjured porcupine atrocious, but in the end she settled for sniffling behind her Transfiguration book. Professor McGonagall did her best to stay between the witch and any animals. Ginny gave up watching the witch to lean close to Luna and cast a subtle _Muffliato_.

"What are we going to do?" she whispered.

Luna had been the same shade as parchment since they had been marched into the Great Hall the night before. If she cared to, Ginny could have counted the veins in her hands.

"We're to have a meeting tonight with the Headmaster," Luna replied, only complicating the question further. "Harper is sure to tell him we've been up to something. What should I say?"

Ginny's stomach clenched with an emotion somewhere between fear and anger. She was feeling the pair so frequently now that she had lost track. "I don't know… But, he can't get into the Room even if he knows about it. I suppose we could hide there as well if it comes to it."

"We would not be able to get out," Luna replied, "or get food any longer. One Patronus has to come in from the outside."

Both girls swallowed. Forcing a smile, Ginny said, "We'll deal with that if it comes to it. We don't even know Harper will say anything."

Luna raised one faint eyebrow at Ginny. As it turned out, they did not have to wait until after dinner.

Ginny and Luna both had a period free before lunch, and planned to spend it giving the Room of Requirement some specific requests to keep Snape and the Carrows out. They jostled with younger students in the corridor and were taken unawares when the crowds parted. Ginny spotted Snape sweeping through the corridor and as he sighted her, immediately turned on her heel. She found herself nose to nose with Harper, who seized Luna by the elbow and pushed Ginny around.

"Headmaster Snape! May I have a word please?" he called.

Foot traffic around them ceased altogether, at least until Amycus Carrow emerged from behind the Headmaster. "Move along!" he bellowed, sending students into a flurry of activity to escape into their classrooms.

"Thank you, Amycus. To your class," Snape said as he drew even with Harper. Though disappointed, the wizard scurried off. Ginny made to leave for a class, but Harper had found her elbow as well, holding her in a vice grip. She was about to rip her arm away when Snape sneered down his nose at them. "Mr. Harper, do you not have classes to attend?"

"It's a free period, Sir," Harper answered. "I thought it might be best to talk while the other students are occupied."

"They will be occupied once they have retired to their common rooms at the time I appointed for a meeting tonight."

"I didn't think it could wait, Sir." He tugged Ginny and Luna forward and the movement allowed Ginny to wrench her arm free. Luna made no attempt to break free, but stared at the Headmaster with protruding eyes. "It's important – these two are up to something dangerous and I believe it needs your immediate attention."

Ginny was just reaching for her wand and poised to run when Snape held up a hand. "Let me stop you there, Mr. Harper. The…" Snape paused, his lips twitching. "…_Ministry_ has granted me a position that is now above dealing with the juvenile antics of children. Should you have any further concerns, please direct them to the Carrows. I'm sure they will deal with these girls _most_ satisfactorily."

Ginny's mouth dropped open; she had never observed Snape openly snubbing a Slytherin. Harper went scarlet. "But—But Sir," he stammered, "Ginny Weasley nearly died!

"Did she?" Snape gave Ginny a disapproving frown, as though she should have spared him the trouble and kicked the bucket. "That reminds me. Mrs. Weasley, your family has been involved in some undue circumstances. It is my unfortunate duty to inform you. Now will do. Follow me."

As they left Harper gobsmacked, Ginny might have appreciated that Snape had somehow gotten meaner if she had not been following him to his office. Instead, she felt a steady dread, accompanied by a smoldering knot in her chest that grew with every step. She had never seen Snape in the same light as Harry, but now if she could go back to Christmas she might hex herself in Harry's place for defending him. By the time they arrived in front of the gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office, Ginny had nearly decided to tell the Headmaster _exactly_ what she thought of him.

"Albus," said Snape, causing Ginny to jump. The gargoyle stepped aside, and it took walking into the office for Ginny to recognize that the name had been the password. Worse, Dumbledore's portrait was snoring directly across from Snape's desk. Instantly she knew that Tom could starve if it came down to it. It did not feel like a terrible loss at the moment, not when a fire was blazing behind her eyes at the gall of a murderer using his victim's name as a password.

She stomped across the office without direction and slammed down into the chair opposite the desk. Snape followed at a relaxed gait, eyes flicking to the Headmaster's portrait as he sat. Ginny's stomach flopped over when he nearly smiled, taunting.

With no preamble, he said, "Miss Weasley, I trust that Mr. Potter has informed you that I am an exemplary Legilimens."

"He didn't put it in such glowing terms," she answered, surprised at the control in her voice. His eyes narrowed and she belatedly added, "Sir."

"Then you are aware that there is very little you could keep from me."

She sat straighter, wanting to hold her wand. "That's illegal," she said before she realized how silly it sounded.

"On the contrary, the Ministry has approved the use of such measures in extreme circumstances. We live in _dangerous_ times, Miss Weasley. I trust you understand that if you do not answer me truthfully, you will force my hand."

Ginny swallowed, but if there was anything Tom Riddle had taught her this year, it was how to lie using truths. Plastering on a mirthless smile, she finally met Snape's eyes dead on. "Why should I have to lie?"

He did not return the smile. "Why indeed? You are a known associate of Harry Potter. Have you been in contact with him lately?"

"We broke up; it was all over the papers. With their close involvement with the _Daily Prophet_, I'm surprised the _Ministry_ forgot." Her control was shaking now and her anger was clearly in her voice. She hoped that he assumed it was because of Harry.

Snape rolled the wand on the desk between his fingers and the knot of anger twisted deeper into her chest. "Answer the question, Miss Weasley."

"I haven't talked to Harry since Dumbledore's funeral," she seethed. "In fact, I haven't even seen someone who resembles Harry since then." Satisfied that the half-truth escaped Snape's notice, she pushed back. "You said something happened to my family. What does Harry have to do with it?"

"Your family is under suspicion of harboring the fugitive Harry Potter. They have been questioned thoroughly and have been released under watch, but many witnesses maintain that you were present at the assembly in question as well." Ginny did not answer, could not fully trust herself to talk after Snape referred to Bill's ruined wedding as an assembly. Finally Snape asked directly, "Were you at the Burrow for your brother's wedding, Miss Weasley?"

"If you check the school's records, you'll see I never left," Ginny answered, drawing her chin up.

"I am well aware. I am equally aware that Minerva McGonagall most recently had access to my office. However, the old bat is quite past her prime and a mistake might have been made. Think carefully now, or your family may find itself in _further_ trouble."

Ginny flew to her feet, hands planted on his desk and spitting. "You vile, traitorous—!"

"Detention Miss Weasley!" Snape thundered, standing to his full height. "You must learn to _hold your tongue!_ I will see you in my office on Friday night at eight. Perhaps that will give you the chance to think about answering my questions with a civil manner."

"Civil to a murderer? Not likely!" she snapped.

"Get out!" he snarled, lips twisting back from his teeth. "OUT!" Ginny stumbled back from the desk and then fled.

She shot out from the Headmaster's office into Luna, who was idling in front of the gargoyle, and seized her around the neck to hug her close. She spotted Harper lingering in Luna's shadow and their eyes met. He startled back when Ginny glared at him with every ounce of rage she wished she could have directed at Snape, and she did not take the time to notice the hint of betrayal in his face. Then she hooked Luna's arm and dashed away. She did not stop until they were safely in the empty Gryffindor common room.

"You're alright!" Luna breathed, crushing Ginny in another hug. "I thought—"

"Me too!" she said. "But he only asked about Harry! And my family is safe; he let it all out that they were questioned and released. Probably thought he was scaring me, but it could have been loads worse." She caught her breath and then gasped out a laugh. "Did you see Harper's face?"

"He'll be to the Carrows next," Luna answered. "He was furious."

"I get the impression that they're a pair of idiots. If Snape wasn't asking about Tom, they probably won't be either." She started to pace away the last vestiges of adrenaline. "Why do you suppose Snape doesn't know?"

"Perhaps Voldemort doesn't even trust Snape with his own self," Luna said.

"That makes sense," Ginny mused. Still, she insisted that they go reinforce the Room and get Tom some food before their next class. It seemed as good a time as any, since Harper had probably run off to wait for the Carrows to get out of class and Snape was clearly not lifting a finger to do any real Headmaster work. However, noises outside the portrait arrested them.

A shrill, angry voice sounded through the door. "Let me in you blinking fat picture! I'm Deputy Headmistress, I am!"

"_Excuse me!_" came the Fat Lady's affronted reply. "I simply cannot. You do not have the password!"

"How do they know we're in here?" Ginny hissed, pulling Luna back from the door.

"I suppose not many students are taking Muggle Studies yet," Luna answered, swallowing. Ginny opened the Marauders Map and spread it across a table. It identified Alecto Carrow outside, though Harper was not with her. Luna found him waiting outside the Defense classroom.

"Why's she here then?" Ginny asked.

The question was rhetorical, but before Luna attempted to answer there was a series of bangs outside the door, like fireworks, and a shriek. Both girls froze, but the door held shut. On the map, Ginny noticed Snape fast approaching.

"Get upstairs!" cried Ginny, clearing the map and gathering it up. To the contrary, Luna had inched up to the portrait hole and put her ear to the door. "Luna!" she hissed, but her friend waved her off.

"What is this commotion, Professor Carrow?" she heard. Snape's voice sounded no warmer than when he had spoken to Harper.

"There's students in there, gorn and said the Dark Lord's name! That bludgering painting won't let me in!"

There was a pause as Ginny imagined Snape examining the frame. "Leave it alone, Alecto. Knowing Gryffindors, they will give you another chance to catch them before the week is out. For now, go fetch Filch to repair this painting. The offending students will have heard your attempts. They will not be coming to us, and without a portrait there is no getting them out."

Ginny let out a sigh and backed away from the door. She was still clutching the map, so she checked it again. Both professors were walking away, Snape back to his office and Carrow down the Grand Staircase.

"Let's go!" she cried, and they sprinted from the common room. Ginny tossed Tom's food in the Room of Requirement without entering and then they both idled nearby, urging it to be untraceable and not to let in any Death Eaters. However small, it felt like a victory. Ginny sailed through class and into lunch, buoyant on evading Snape twice in one day. She almost looked forward to pulling the wool over his eyes on Friday. She had the inkling that it would be easy, at least until lunch. The first year Ravenclaws had just gotten out of their first Defense lesson.

None of them were talking much, not like the fifth year Gryffindors who had had their Defense class first thing in the morning. At the Gryffindor table a vicious, mutinous murmur spread from the fifth years, telling that the class would likely be called the Dark Arts soon enough. But across the hall, one Ravenclaw girl was shaking underneath the arm of an older girl. She may have been trying to keep silent, but Ginny could hear sniffling across the sounds of eating.

As though queued up by the crying, Headmaster Snape stood once more before the school. "A serious matter has been brought to my attention," he announced. His gaze found the sniffling girl and his lip curled. "It appears that some students feel comfortable brazenly speaking the Dark Lord's name. This is unacceptable, a poor example set by my predecessor. Those people who call He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named by his proper name are simply warmongers who wish to inspire fear with the use of a name. Henceforth, a Taboo has been placed on the Dark Lord's name by the Auror's department. Only those who wish to inspire hate and violence utter the name of the Dark Lord, and by using the Taboo, the Ministry is confident that these dissidents will be quickly located and brought to justice.

"This missive comes directly from the Ministry of Magic, and as such we cannot afford to be lenient. Perpetrators will be dealt with swiftly and with the severity necessary to instill the fear of this issue into even the thickest of heads." He found the Gryffindor table and Ginny bristled as she felt his eyes on her. "In time, you will appreciate that you will be dealt with by your professors, and not the Dementors of Azkaban. That is all."

The hall remained quiet until classes resumed. Luna appeared at Ginny's shoulder as they filed out, speaking low.

"She's a Muggleborn. She said You-Know-Who's name in class; she just didn't know any better. They used the Cruciatus Curse."

Ginny's stomach crawled and at once their small victories were put in proper perspective. Even if Snape was not asking about Tom, he had properly won. Hogwarts was conquered.

* * *

**A/N:** Reviews greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading.


	20. Swept Under

Difficulties of Avoidance

by dead2self

**A/N:** This went faster than expected. I hope you enjoy it.

On a side note, I am so sick of coming up with these ocean/water/drowning related chapter titles. I want to go back six years and kick myself for doing that instead of properly calling them "Chapter 1" and etc... What do you all think of the chapter titles? Cheesy or pointless or worth my effort?

Reviews are much appreciated!

* * *

Even as she watched Riddle eat, she had not decided how to act around him. She was reluctant to start lying again, but it was equally terrifying for Riddle to know the school was being run by Death Eaters. Doubtless another escape plan was underway, and she had no desire to turn it more desperate and violent with that knowledge.

Ginny had sneaked into the Room with leftovers from dinner while Luna met with Snape and Harper, so she could not claim homework and escape quickly. The result was that she sat on the edge of her seat, arms draped over the side in a gesture of casualty while chewing on the inside of her cheek. She had burst in with fake bravado, bragging about her new method to carry food, but Riddle had been unimpressed. He seemed content to study her while he ate.

Riddle finished all too soon, and Ginny fell back on old strategies. "I'm holding you to that new plan of yours, the pretending to be nice and doing homework and such," she said. A brilliant thought formed and her nerves flew from her mind. "I was thinking Charms. I need a flawless Disillusionment Charm before N.E.W.T.s."

"Happily," Riddle drawled. "It should help you sneak around as well."

Ginny's heart picked up, but she laughed. "Well, yeah, I have to uphold the twins' legacy."

"Ginevra, do not be coy. I thought we were being honest with each other."

"I'm not joking. They regularly encourage me to defy authority." A patronizing smile spread on Riddle's face as he slipped closer to her, hands wide. "Two arms," warned Ginny.

Riddle halted, but his smile only curled wider. "Today I was fed by a pile of food dumped through my door. Clearly something has happened."

Ginny froze. She felt an intense need to drop her eyes, look away to think, but she could not shake the feeling that he would pounce if she broke eye contact. Swallowing, she nodded.

"Dumbledore is dead now. Voldemort has never attacked Hogwarts directly because Dumbledore was the only wizard he ever feared.

Tom bristled, so Ginny hurried ahead.

"People have been panicking, and now the Ministry has decided that McGonagall isn't fit to be Headmistress. They've appointed a new Headmaster." She rolled her wand between her fingers, frowning for a chance to measure her words. "The problem is, he isn't a member of the Order and he doesn't know about you. I told you we're protecting you. It's more important now than ever."

"In other words, you've lost an ally. What grand news."

"Don't be glib. The Ministry has been arresting innocent people just to make it look like they're doing something. If they find you… well, I think it's obvious what they'd do. This is your own skin on the line, Tom. Maybe you should start acting like it." She swung out of the chair and crossed the distance between them, stopping toe-to-toe with him. "So, a Disillusionment Charm? And what happened to our two arm's lengths?"

Riddle frowned down his nose at her, and then broke into a chuckle. He stepped away the appropriate distance. "Such a way with words, Miss Weasley," he said. "A true wordsmith. Do your friends and family know you lie so fluently?"

"You haven't met my brothers," she laughed, raising her wand. "Here's what I can do so far." She demonstrated her Disillusionment Charm, after which Riddle spent nearly an hour ridiculing her imprecise wand movements and weak results. Ginny had no idea there were so many wrong ways to tap your wand atop your head. Despite this unpleasant environment, Ginny felt reluctant to leave. Whatever Luna's meeting with Snape was about, it was not likely good. She checked the map until Harper and Luna had left Snape's office. Waiting for Harper to return to Slytherin's common room before casting her Patronus, she left under the cover of a barely passable Disillusionment Charm

* * *

"Look at this rot," Ginny hissed to Demelza over breakfast. The evaluations of Hogwarts had finished and the _Prophet_'s report was not glowing. Demelza leaned closer to scan the newspaper, casting a wary glance at the staff table.

"Kind of makes you want to study for N.E.W.T.s just to prove them wrong, doesn't it?" Demelza muttered.

"Wouldn't go that far," joined Gregory. "What I _do_ want is a crate of Weasley fireworks to light them up like Umbridge."

"If I didn't think they'd arrest Fred and George for it, I'd be in," Ginny said dryly. "I think we're on our own here."

"Has he said anything to Luna?" asked Colin, joining the conversation. "Anything other than what we heard, I mean. She's Head Girl after all."

Conversations around them petered off as the Gryffindor table leaned in to hear Ginny. "We haven't talked yet this morning," she answered. Ginny had taken Riddle's food on her own, and they had not talked either. "We're certainly not getting any help from the Ministry – probably not from outside at all. But Snape all but told Harper to bugger off when he tried to snitch on Luna and I. I don't think he's interested in dealing with students anymore, now that he doesn't have to."

Silence fell over the table until Demelza glanced up at the Carrows. "But they're not any better." Ginny swallowed; the seventh years had their first Defense lesson this morning.

Benches began to scrape as students stood to leave. Ginny waved her friends closer and whispered, "Be careful what you write. They're reading our post." Colin and Dennis shared a blanched glance, but Ginny caught sight of Luna and took off after her without another word.

"How'd it go?" she whispered, falling in step behind Luna.

"We're to direct any misbehaving students to the Carrows," Luna murmured. "Cheered Harper up." Luna cast a glance over her shoulder, and then pushed a rolled up magazine into Ginny's hand. "Here – Daddy's taken up a new focus lately. It's far more mainstream, but I think you will appreciate it."

Ginny slipped the_ Quibbler_ into her bag for later and squared her shoulders. "Ready for class?" Luna swallowed hard, so Ginny added, "He can't be worse than Tom."

Granted, Amycus Carrow came pretty close, if only because he had a wand and lacked even Tom's occasional false charm. The lopsided sneer he gave them at the start of the lesson, holding up the _Daily Prophet _from that morning, held no hint of irony.

"Listen up, you brats," he began. "Appears the lot of you are hopeless. I'm here to teach you now that you've got a Headmaster with his head screwed on straight. You just do what I say."

His beady eyes flicked to Ginny and she met his gaze solidly. With him, she was certain there was no fear of Legilimency.

She regretted catching his eye almost immediately, for his eyes lit with recognition. After all, he had shot countless Cruciatus curses at her just weeks back. "You there. Weasley, aren't you? Whole family a bunch of filthy blood traitors, ain't they?"

"Yes, sir," she said. Luna was trying to catch her eye, but it did no good. All she could think about was the Ravenclaw first year from the day before, and she spit the words like acid. "Carrow, right? I heard your family is all just filthy."

Laughter sounded from the Gryffindors in the room, but Carrow's face hardened. He clomped through the rows of desks until he hovered over hers. "Think you're clever, don't you girl?" he sneered, close enough to smell his stale breath.

"Not at all, sir," she shot back. "I only assumed after I saw you and your sister."

Amycus Carrow cut through the laughter before it had a chance to start with a wand to Ginny's nose. "Twenty points from Gryffindor, Weasley!" The room went quiet as Amycus wheezed through his teeth and Ginny's fingers curled around the seat to keep from her own wand. "An' you're going to help me with today's lesson. On your feet."

Absolute silence surrounded Ginny as she slid from the desk. Rumors of the Carrows had spread, and though none of the seventh years had had Amycus yet, Ginny was sure that "help" really meant "target practice." She steeled herself at the front of the room opposite the Death Eater and held her head high, but could not help thinking Harper was about to have the best class of his life.

She blocked the first ten spells intended to peel back her fingernails – offensive Defense, Carrow called it – but a wiry Slytherin with more enthusiasm than their other classmates slipped past her shield. Ginny screeched through her teeth but she managed to stay upright against the blackboard and block the next three in line.

"Right, right, get off that," Amycus said, pulling her from her spot. "Creevey, you're up front."

Colin nearly went green. Seeing this, Ginny yanked her arm free from Amycus and took her place back at the board. She waved her wand over her fingertips like Riddle had shown her, stopping the bleeding. "Sorry, sir, I'm fine to keep going. It was just the shock at first."

"You've got no more nails, Weasley," said Harper, the next in line. "Step aside."

"I've got toenails," she spat. "Get on with it already."

Ginny did not hear the incantation, but she hit the ground, screaming and thrashing. The pain was excruciating, but not so much that she lost the sense of bodies dashing about the room and a large, lumpy figure bent over her. Then the pain was over almost as soon as it had begun. She was curled on the floor, hissing through her teeth, and staring up at Amycus Carrow. Her wand was still in her hand and she nearly cursed him, until she saw Luna hovering behind Amycus, raising her wand with a face like a ghost. She struggled upright, shaking her head, but Amycus seized the collar of her robes.

"I say Creevey is up front," he snarled, "so Creevey is up front." He dragged Ginny up, throwing her in the direction of the line and Luna caught her, stumbling, before her legs could give out. Trembling like a field mouse, Colin took her place. Ginny clung to Luna, quivering too. Her insides felt ripped apart all over again; it was the best she could do to stay upright as they watched Colin fend off curses. His small stature was an aid to him in this case, as he was quite quick. A sharp look, like a seedling, was emerging on his face with each dodged spell.

Finally the class was over and Colin had not been hit once. He was out of the room before Amycus had a chance to rectify this, but the rest of the class moved slowly with the need to digest what had happened. Ginny waited in the doorway while Luna collected their things, and Harper hovered beside her for a moment, his mouth tight, before decidedly walking in the opposite direction. She left the classroom on her own two legs, but in the end needed Luna's help to make it to the hospital wing, where Madam Pince was apoplectic. Hoping not to draw any attention to the altercation in the seventh floor corridor, she had not retrieved her potions since Snape's takeover. Ginny was banished to a bed for the afternoon even after her nails grew back.

Given the afternoon alone, she took up an examination of the new _Quibbler_ against the prospect of dedicating further thought to Snape and the Carrows. There was not a Spectrespec or Gurdyroot infusion recipe to be found. Instead she opened to a solemn letter from the editor, urging all readers who were against You-Know-Who to aid Harry Potter. Feeling a swell of pride for Luna's father, she tore through the magazine for familiar names. She found nothing but bad news.

Tonks' family had been tortured with the Cruciatus Curse the night of the Ministry takeover, likely to find Harry's location. Dedalus Diggle's house had been burned down, though the wizard himself was nowhere to be found. As Ginny continued reading she discovered that no news was good news. She read accounts of Muggle families killed in what their authorities puzzled were gas leaks, but Lovegood reported were Death Eaters wantonly exercising the Killing Curse. Overnight a division of the Ministry devoted to Muggle-borns had emerged fully staffed by purebloods and headed by Dolores Umbridge. Their function was not officially disclosed, but rumors named it the Muggle-born Registration Commission. Muggle-borns were urged to go into hiding as soon as possible, with an advice column dedicated to points along the coast where a strong Apparate could reach France. Information on how to book passage on Muggle flying machines was even included in a small aside.

Ginny was left with an overwhelming desire to jump from the hospital bed and curse down any Death Eater that crossed her path, and an urge to curl in a ball with the covers over her head. Their plight have never felt more overwhelming, and it stung that her only contribution could be sticking her neck out in a Death Eater's Defense lesson and squabbling with a lost cause miniature of the Dark Lord.

She begged her way to dinner and ate silently until she realized that half the table was casting her furtive looks. "I'm fine," she told Demelza. "Pass it down and everyone can stop staring."

"They're not staring 'cause they're worried for you," she answered, flashing a grin that looked out of place in the Hall.

"I'll take it next time," said Colin from her other side. He was turning a knife over in his hands, the utensil forgotten as he caught Ginny in a straight gaze. "Thank you for trying, I really mean it. But you were right today – someone has to stand up to them, show them they can't control us. I want to help too."

She raised an eyebrow at him, taken aback at this interpretation. "That's not what I was doing," Ginny insisted. "I was just angry, and it all came out. Besides, if you didn't notice, I ended up in the infirmary all afternoon, compliments of a Cruciatus. Not what I'd strictly call control of that situation."

"I'm angry now too," said Colin, "so I'll take it next time."

"Colin…" she said, struck by the sheer conviction on his face. In a flash she pictured him on the floor, writhing under the Cruciatus Curse and looking smaller than ever. Shaking her head of that thought, she snatched the _Quibbler_ out of her bag and handed it to him under the table. "You better read that," she whispered. "I think your Mum and Dad might need to leave the country. They have bits of advice for Muggle-borns in there." Colin murmured his thanks and slipped it away.

"Colin's right, though," whispered Gregory, leaning across the table. "We ought to do something."

Demelza nodded toward him. "Like what?"

"Well… I never was a part of it, but we all heard rumors. What about Dumbledore's Army?"

"I still have my coin," offered Colin.

"We'll talk in the common room," said Ginny, cutting them off with a look at the staff table. "It's not safe here."

They followed her gaze and then bent over their meals, finishing in silence. Ginny glanced around the table for food that might stay good until the morning and slipped some into her lap when no one was looking. Tom would have to make good with leftovers, because she was not going to scamper the length of the castle every morning with the Carrows about. She hoped Luna had gotten enough food for his dinner, because before Ginny could push through the students leaving the hall, Alecto Carrow descended from the staff table and started barking at the Head Girl. She left the hall with her housemates, heart sinking, but she had recently mastered sending her Patronus galloping flush with the walls along the seventh floor from Gryffindor tower. She would just have to check the Map so no one would see.

Ginny's wariness was easily swallowed in the thrumming enthusiasm that was being passed unspoken among her classmates. It seemed they could not get up to the common room fast enough, edged on though they walked in complete silence. They burst through the portrait hole with exuberance and Colin dashed up the stairs to his dormitory. Gregory kicked two second-years out of the armchairs in the furthest corner of the room. Ginny cast the Muffliato Charm under her breath as Colin returned with a Galleon in his hand.

"Here, I've got it," he said, flashing the coin at Ginny.

She motioned him to put it back in his pocket and said, "I'll find mine too. Is anyone good at Protean Charms?"

No one answered and silence doused some of their enthusiasm. "We'll figure it out," said Colin, pocketing the coin. "Hermione did it her fourth year and we're all N.E.W.T. students now."

"So what should we do?" asked Demelza, balancing at the edge of her chair.

"We could learn defensive spells again," said Colin. "And let everyone else know that people are fighting back against Snape. We could meet in the Room of Requirement again—"

"No, we cant!" Ginny snapped. Heads swung around toward her and she leaned back in her chair, attempting nonchalance. "The seventh floor corridor is off limits, remember? I'd say ignore it, but Harper's been out for my blood. I've seen him watching me for a chance to hand me over to the Carrows, and if I step a toe into that corridor, we'll all be in trouble. Besides it's different than with Umbridge. There's no rule against students getting together in groups."

"For now anyways," said Gregory.

"We could meet in the dormitory," offered Colin. "We're all Gryffidors this time 'round."

Ginny struggled against exasperation. Didn't they notice how extremely in over their heads they were? "We have to be careful. Someone could overhear us. I want to believe we can trust everyone in Gryffindor, but look what happened last time – and Umbridge wasn't even a Death Eater."

The group went silent. "It's true then?" asked Colin.

"I dueled Amycus Carrow the night Dumbledore died, when Death Eaters came into the castle. Snape was our spy, but he turned on us. They're all three Death Eaters, and Snape is You-Know-Who's right hand man."

"Blimey," said Colin with a rush of breath. "What's he doing in a school?"

Ginny privately thought that Snape was here for Tom, whether he knew it or not, but answered otherwise. "Maybe in case Harry comes back. This is probably the only place they think he'll come eventually."

"Is Harry going to come back?" asked Demelza.

She paused. "Harry is doing all he can to stop V—You-Know-Who. We can't rely on him to be here." A jolt of bitterness shot through her. Harry got to destroy Voldemort and she was stuck with the impossible task of saving him. A task that would only be made more difficult if she spent her nights thinking up pranks. "I don't think this is a good idea. We can try to keep them from hurting other people, but we need to keep our heads down."

The other Gryffindors stared at her, Demelza open-mouthed. Colin had crossed his arms and looked smaller. "I guess—" he started.

"What's wrong with you?" snapped Gregory. "Did Pomfrey give you something that went to your head?"

"You guys don't understand how dangerous this is," Ginny snapped back, leaping to her feet.

"You just told us and we're still ready to go."

She wanted to shake him, all of them, force it into their heads that her stand against Amycus Carrow that afternoon had done nothing but leave her sore and drained. Hogwarts as they knew it was over and school-time antics had no place in it. Colin was a Muggle-born and she doubted the Carrows would stop at fingernails and Cruciatus Curses for him. She already had Luna and Tom; she could not protect the whole of Gryffindor playing like gnats against a draconian Snape. But their faces told her they would hear none of it, so instead Ginny stalked off to wait for Luna's Patronus. Her happy memory felt far away.

* * *

Ginny gave Riddle the leftovers from dinner early in the morning, before her own breakfast. She had no inclination to talk, as she was running through a list of reasons for this new "Dumbledore's Army" to leave well enough alone, but Riddle had a sixth sense for her bad moods and swooped to take advantage.

"Do you love your family and friends, Weasley?" he asked, eying cold carrots with some disdain.

Ginny was instantly on guard, for such a question could lead nowhere pleasant with Riddle. "Of course," she replied.

"Does it scare you that, even if you succeed in imprisoning me indefinitely, my followers or my present self are likely to kill them regardless?"

"Piss off, Riddle," she said, but she could not help thinking of the Tonks, what had likely happened to her own family—

"Honestly with nine people odds are good at least one will die. Poor Harry Potter's family of three got whittled down to one last war."

"We're not at war," she grumbled, hoping that this would slip by on account that the war was sort of lost and not official to begin with. "But, yes, I worry for them. This is not mind-blowing stuff here. And I'm not incapacitated with anxiety or weakened by my care for them, if those are your follow-up questions."

He curled a smile at her and as he opened his mouth, she jumped to speak over him.

"You don't have anyone to care for but yourself," she said. "Do _you_ worry about yourself dying?"

"I can't die."

"You might soon enough. Best start thinking about it."

"Your confidence is absurdly misplaced. Potter can't be everywhere at once, and he certainly can't stop me murdering your family while he pops about looking for Horcruxes." His eyes nearly glittered as he watched her scowl deepen into something fearful. "It would be my first thought if I wished to draw him out."

Ginny opened her mouth, but could not respond. Anxieties that she had been clamping down since reading the _Quibbler_ were bubbling up, and she realized she had lied, not to Riddle, but to herself. She _was_ incapacitated; worried that defending other students and rebelling against Snape would bring the Death Eaters down harder. Her family had not been mentioned in the magazine, but she did not know if she could stand to read "Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes gutted for suspected conspiracy against Hogwarts Headmaster. Proprietors missing." Riddle was right, and nine people were a lot to take on as a responsibility. Worse, she realized she was burdening herself with not nine, but ten. It was too early for Tom to be found if the Death Eaters focused their attention on her; they needed more time—

Just like that, Ginny was struck with the realization that, for the barest second, she had believed that Tom Riddle would come to their side. She looked up at him with wide eyes, and then burst out laughing. Riddle appraised her as though she had gone mad.

"Thanks for the pep talk Riddle," she said, catching her breath through her laughter. It was as though the thought had cleared her mind, like rubbing fog off a window. She could only imagine the earful Fred and George would give her if they discovered she was withholding misdeeds against Snape on their account. "I needed reminding that my family's all grown Order members. We knew what we were getting into, supporting Harry. They'll take care of themselves and I'll do my part."

Tom smiled at her and resumed eating. "I was merely pointing out your need for concern."

Ginny checked the time and sent off her Patronus. "I wouldn't let my family worry you too much, Riddle. I expect whoever goes after my mum will be in for a surprise – she was a dueling competitor during her time at Hogwarts." Gathering her things, she slipped out of the room at the sight of Luna's hare.

"You lied. Which part?" he called after her.

"Most of it," she answered, and shut the door. It took the walk down to breakfast for Ginny to stop shaking her head in disbelief at herself.

She had to pass around a ladder on her way into the Great Hall, but it was Snape that arrested her attention. He caught sight of her as she edged inside and the sneer he blatantly directed at her stopped Ginny in the doorway. Her heart galloped into her throat. Did he know?

Other students buffeted her inside and she realized the hall was buzzing with whispers and low murmurs. Every head was bent together, and not even violent gestures from the Carrows seemed to quiet the room. Turning, Ginny stared up the length of the ladder. Atop it, Filch was directing all his energy into scrubbing away "Dumbledore's Army, Still Recruiting," painted in brazen gold and red.

Ginny stifled a laugh behind her hand before she could catch herself. It seemed things had gone ahead without her in stunning fashion. As she joined her housemates, she could not keep from grinning.

"It's brilliant," she said, siting next to Demelza. "Sorry I lost my head."

"I'll say," mumbled Gregory.

"I wasn't overreacting," she jumped to say. "Everything was true. Still, that wasn't right of me, walking out." She gave their handiwork a nod as she tucked into her breakfast. "Honestly, brilliant."

This seemed a satisfactory apology, for her housemates resumed eating. She was itching to hear the details of last night's excursion, but Snape's eyes on their table kept her quiet. That alone was telling. She would be his prime suspect in any event of rebellion; keeping her head down would be next to impossible.

Then the _Daily Prophet_ arrived.

Harry's face filled the front page, scowling under thick black print that read, "Wanted for Questioning About the Death of Albus Dumbledore." Cries of outrage went up from the Gryffindor table as students caught their newspapers, and Ginny read along with Demelza with general disgust. It was worse than the _Quibbler_. Across from her, Colin grew white as he read the article on the second page, a confirmation that the Muggle-born Registration Committee was actively targeting Muggle-borns for the Ministry.

This time, however, she caught herself imagining something different. She could not look away from the Headmaster, picturing the horror that would form on Snape's face if Tom Riddle were ever to appear in the middle of the Great Hall, leering at him down the length of a wand.


	21. Breaking the Surface

The Difficulties of Avoidance

by dead2self

**A/N:** Had a good time stealing time to write this over the past few weeks. I'm about to move back overseas so things have been a bit hectic. Hope you enjoy this chapter! As always, reviews are so encouraging and motivating to me. I love to know what people think about where this story is going. Thanks for reading!

* * *

The week trudged by in a farce of normalcy. Ginny attended her classes and ate her meals, all in the knowledge that the week was marching her closer to detention with Snape. Along the way she was noticing more limping students, professors biting their tongues, and worst, Snape's black eyes glinting at her from the central seat of the staff table.

Ginny and Luna had decided that any loitering outside the Room was now unwise. Their abundant practice meant they could both push their Patronuses farther, certainly far enough to reach from the safety of their own dormitories. It was a risk, having no reinforcement outside when Tom inevitably attempted another escape, but Harper had acclimated quickly to the new regime and Ginny did not trust Snape to ignore him twice. However, this also limited her conversations with Luna to those stolen in class or after meals.

Luna's position put her in close proximity with the Carrows, who days later were still on a manhunt for the students responsible for the Great Hall's graffiti. There had been conversation of testing the wands of every student in the school, but too much time had passed to use a Prior Incantato spell. Vestiges of the paint remained as a reminder of its message and Luna reported that the new professors was desperate to lay down punishment. Ginny could tell that Luna was terrified of what they would ask of her as Head Girl, but for once Luna's blank honesty was absent.

Oddly, the only times that truly had a measure of untouched routine were her mornings with Tom. She admitted that this was likely due to Tom's ignorance of the Death Eater takeover and acting like it never happened was a necessity. Nonetheless, she enjoyed the charade and her Disillusionment Charm made some improvement. She did not know how much good it would do if she had to hide from Snape, but it was a start.

As during Umbridge's tenure, mail was being screened by Filch. Thus, when Errol narrowly missed a bowl of porridge in his landing on Friday morning, Ginny was shocked to be receiving any mail at all. She nudged her water glass closer to the ragged owl and opened the letter. Ginny read it once and then laughed, wishing she could show Riddle this evidence of where she had learned her fast tongue. _This_ was spin at its finest.

_Dear Ginny, _

_It was a shame about Bill's wedding. We all miss you. You did avoid a bit of an ordeal with the Ministry, though. Turns out they have reason to believe that Harry Potter is a criminal and were worried our family was harboring him. Of course, none of us saw hide or hair of him anywhere near the wedding. They took some time examining the family genealogies and, lucky thing, we've all been classified as pureblood, so we're fine. We've been released but I expect Headmaster Snape will want to ask you questions about Potter. It's unfortunate, you splitting and all, but do your best. Solemnly swear you will._

_Your brother,_

_George_

Allowing herself a furtive smile, Ginny tucked the letter away for later when she could read it privately. For now, she had quite the day before her. She ferretted away bits of food from breakfast. In a bid to avoid detection, she had taken to varying the times that she visited Tom in the mornings. Today, she planned to go during her free period, during which she knew Harper had a lesson.

It was one thing believing they would be successful and another mapping out how it could ever be possible. Riddle was no encouragement in that area.

"What hour is it?" he demanded, attending close to the door when she entered. She waved him off and laid the food on their small table. He did not wait for an answer before laying into the spread, eating with flourish. Ginny took a turn about the room, checking nooks and crannies for anything that looked new. A loud slurp diverted her attention from her study of his bed and she looked Tom's way. He sometimes ate with less decorum, as though his complete lack of regard for her made him forget to put on any show of courtesy. She had yet to decide whether this rude honesty was progress or a mark of failure.

Tom caught her staring and Ginny noticed he checked his exuberance, almost imperceptibly chewing slower. He did this not out of politeness, she assumed, but because wolfing down food made him look desperate and, worse, dependent. She curled up a one side of her mouth to let him know that she had seen. His back stacked straighter and he raised one brow at her. Ginny snorted and shined her wandlight under his bed, determining that the Room had yet to bend to Riddle's will. It was empty as ever.

"Are we still being honest with each other, Riddle?" she asked, sitting back on her heels.

"_I _am, though I certainly doubt you are," he answered.

Nonplussed, she continued, "Does the Room work for you?"

He took in the bare corners of the room and then shot her a despairing look. "I find it amusing that you do not trust your own thorough examination. Do ask me something else, or you waste our time."

Ginny rocked to her feet and tapped her wand against her palm. She approached him slowly, thinking of something that might take him off balance, but that he would not refuse to answer. Finally, she asked, "If I handed my wand to you right now, what would you do?"

The question surprised a laugh out of him. "Thank you politely; perhaps Conjure us a mid-morning tea." He glanced up to catch her frown and bared his teeth to the challenge. "I would break your fingers for starters, and your arm so the bone—"

"Right, we can skip that bit," Ginny interrupted, warding off a shiver. "And once you hurt me to your satisfaction, what would you do?"

Riddle finished the last of his breakfast and sighed at her. "Cast an Imperius Curse and compel you to cast a Patronus, releasing me from this prison."

"Is that even possible? You would have to give my wand back to me."

"I am quite proficient. It is a miniscule risk."

Ginny crossed her arms and stole a bit closer. "Alright. And after that?"

He regarded her, growing uninterested. "Join myself and accomplish the purpose for which I was brought."

"Assuming you are still alive, what will come from that?"

It was too far and he turned his back on her, padding over to the bookshelf. "I will not suffer this conversation. The pretense that you comprehend what you speak of is truly too much to bear."

She darted after him, slipping between him and his examination of reading materials. "You're just scared to think about it."

He reached over her head to select a book and held it up as he stepped away from her. "How quaint, Ginevra. You forget I am not a Gryffindor. I am not easily goaded and manipulated by taunts of cowardice."

She charged after him, keeping at his heels. "You're right. Besides, you're not in a position to make a decision either way. You'll do whatever he says."

"_I_ have already made the decision. Please do not overtax yourself; I know the concept is difficult for you." He sat in her chair rather than his plain wooden one, probably to discourage her keeping him company, and engrossed himself in the book.

Ginny stopped behind the chair in the new silence and propped her elbows on the back, staring at the top of his head and pondering what had possessed her to think that this was possible. They stayed that way for some minutes, and her thoughts turned to admiration for his concentration. He steadily flipped pages as she stared over his shoulder, a feat that even Percy had not mastered while they were growing up.

Her stomach flopped at the thought of Percy. She had not given him a second thought until now, but he would have been in the Ministry during the takeover given his tendency to work every second of the day. She rushed to reassure herself; he was fine, or Snape would have said something cruel. But if he was fine, did that mean—surely he could not _believe_ what the _Daily Prophet_ was writing about Harry and their family.

Tom slapped a page down somewhat loudly, as page turning goes, and Ginny startled out of her thoughts. His neck was a touch straighter and his shoulders tensed. She chuckled as she recognized the posture of someone agitated.

"Don't let me take up all your time," he said in a voice so demure that only the expertise of a youngest sister could see through it.

"Sorry, it's just you reminded me of Percy, the great prat."

"Percy?" he repeated. "Another Slytherin bully?"

"No, my brother," she answered, and watched his whole body go rigid at the comparison. "I used to do this to him, reading over his shoulder to bother him. You lasted a lot longer than he does." It occurred to her, then, that he had not recognized the name. "Did you not take any memories of my family?"

"I took only what was important and the individuals blur together." His eyes flicked to her hair. "You all look the same."

"My family _is_ important," she insisted. "And look at you, threatening them when you couldn't even pick them out of a crowd."

"It is not difficult to aim for red hair. Do you not have somewhere to be?" He finally looked up at her and Ginny pushed off the chair, sighing.

"_Yes_, _Percy_," she droned, and then just because she knew he would hate the gesture, reached over and mussed his hair.

He leapt up and she snatched her hand away. "I will kill them all like I promised, and with your hand," he hissed. His eyes were as wild as his hair and the book was forgotten. "You won't recognize them when I release you back to yourself. _That_ is what I will do after I take your wand."

Ginny shot off her Patronus with force and in a beat had her wand trained on him. All traces of false familiarity had left them both, and she struck out with words fit to wound a Slytherin: "But only if he lets you." The flickering rage and disgust on his face made Ginny happy that the chair was between them. She kept her wand at the ready as she edged around him, waiting for Luna to respond.

"_Get out,_" he rumbled, though he stayed away.

"_Be patient,_" she bit back. They matched glares until Luna's Patronus released her. She stumbled back out of the Room without breaking her line of sight and slammed the door. Though her hand was shaking, she tapped her wand upon her head and disappeared well enough for flee the corridor and reverse the spell a safe distance away.

Ginny spent the rest of the day so enraged at the threat – at his disgusting, twisted mind and at terrifying flashes of her hand stretched out against her father – that by the time eight o'clock came around, she had barely given thought to her detention. Though she arrived on time, she idled in front of the gargoyle with no inclination of what was expected. She had never served a detention with Dumbledore; indeed, she could think of no one who had.

It was just as she had worked up the nerve to say the password herself and trespass on whatever Snape was up to, that the Headmaster billowed around the corner. The skin beneath his eyes was more sallow than usual, and she saw his left fist clenched into a fist. Her stomach turned at what _that_ meant, but he moved before her without acknowledgement and said, "Albus," to open the doorway.

"Do not tarry, Weasley," he commanded as he mounted the stairs. Scowling, Ginny scrambled up behind him.

Dumbledore sat awake in his frame this time, winking at her as she entered. Ginny wondered at the portrait as he slipped out the side, surprised he had not been gagged. She hoped he gave Snape a daily earful for being a murdering traitor, especially since she could not.

"You know why you are here," Snape began, drawing her attention back to him like whiplash. "You are a _liar_ and one who must learn to hold her tongue."

Ginny gritted her teeth, digging her nails into her palms to keep from saying anything at all. She kept strict eye contact with her shoes, and tensed for the expected spell. When she did not answer, he spoke again.

"You will be doing lines, Miss Weasley." A heavy, ominous tome floated off the bookshelf and thudded onto the desk. "You will copy chapter forty-seven until I deem the punishment appropriate."

The shock of something so benign overrode her determination to hold her tongue and she stared openly at him. "Only lines? I thought Unforgivables were the new norm for school discipline, _Sir_."

His thin lips curled. "Filch tells me you have a correspondence from your brother. I do hope nothing illicit was discussed." She froze like a rod had gone through her spine, but there was nothing she could do. An unkind satisfaction crossed Snape's face and he rejoined, "I do not doubt that you will provide ample opportunity for a great variety of punishments. For now, lines will certainly suffice."

Glowering, Gnny bit back further protest and sat down heavily in the desk provided her, opening the book with perhaps more force than necessary. She sputtered through a cloud of dust as she paged for the correct chapter, thinking that no one had cracked it in centuries. Then she had to steel herself against a look of astonishment. The chapter, handwritten in a tiny scrawl, was entitled "_Occulto Mens_: Sealing Thy Minde." Ginny let her eyes dart to Snape, who was already seated at his desk, pointedly ignoring her while answering letters. Did he know what he had given her—but, no, the book was filthy with dust, but not even a fingerprint on it before hers.

The text was nearly impossible to make out. Ginny was close to pressing her nose against the pages to decipher the spindled handwriting, but slowly she made headway in her lines. However, even as she translated the words onto the parchment, she could not make heads or tails of what it said. She suspected she would have to read it several times over to understand the weave of Old English and archaic magical terms. _Tom_ could probably understand it with a cursory glance, she thought bitterly, and then banished thought of him from her mind. What little she _could_ understand suggested she should not think about the memories or emotions that she wanted to hide.

The minutes ticked by and her hand cramped around the quill, but she wrote steadily to record every word. The chapter was dense and her copy of it took several hours. Snape gave her no notice, and when she finished with chapter forty-seven, she furtively continued into chapter forty-eight, "_Occulto Mens:_ Furthere Confounding Thy Foe." Nearly three hours had passed when Snape finally glanced up from his work, a pile of papers that had not diminished since when he started.

"That is all," Snape said so suddenly that Ginny dropped her quill. She gathered it from under his sneer and scrambled her things together. Snape levitated the book, replacing it on the heavy bookshelf. "Should you talk out of turn in the future, you can expect no less punishment than this."

Tentatively, Ginny picked up the parchment she had been writing on and asked, "Sir, what should I do with this?"

"Do I look like I care what you do with your trash, Miss Weasley? Get out of my office."

"It's past curfew."

Snape did not look up again, and rather, intoned, "I am aware."

Ginny scowled and scurried down the staircase. She hurried across the seventh floor, aghast at how smoothly things had proceeded, relatively speaking. To cap off the evening, she did not run into a single professor or prefect in her rush, arriving safely in the common room. She still clutched the copied chapters and she was eager to decipher them. Snape had just given her a lifeline in their mission, if she could just work out what she had written down.

First, however, Snape had reminded her of George's letter, and she suspected it was riddled with illicit content. Once she was tucked quietly in bed with the curtains drawn, Ginny tapped the letter with her wand, whispering, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." The text faded into the parchment and new words floated to the surface, written in George's hand.

_It turns out having sacks of money is useful not only for buying clothes that give Mum a headache, but also for bribing Owl Post officials to overlook spells they may or may not find on this letter. McGonagall let us know that you made it safely back to Hogwarts and we'll get it to Mum, who's been worried sick. They've been watching the Burrow and all the Order members for communication, so everyone is a bit cut off. I expect we'll find ways around it. If you need to communicate, try to get a note to McGonagall – she's still able to leave the castle and our shop is cluttered enough for any tail to miss a slip of parchment. _

_Mum will kill me for telling you this, but I think it's important enough to risk writing. A few days before Bill's wedding, the Minister himself came to visit Harry at the Burrow. It turns out Dumbledore left some things to Harry, Hermione, and Ron. Search me why Ron got anything, but Harry got an old Snitch and Gryffindor's sword, except the Ministry refused to give him the sword. Said it wasn't properly Dumbledore's to give, that it belonged to Hogwarts. _

_I never was much acquainted myself, but I expect that if Dumbledore left the sword to Harry, it was important. If it isn't at the Ministry, it's back at Hogwarts now, probably in Dumbledore's old office. How'd you like to pull one over on Snape for a good cause? _

_Stay safe, _

_George_

Ginny's heart hammered in her chest as she read the letter again. She could barely believe her luck; thanks to her detention, she knew Snape's password had not changed. Something to help, really help, Harry—

By the time she had skimmed to the end, a postscript had appeared.

_I thought George might have left this bit out, but I know you'd want to know. We did not come away from the skirmish at the wedding entirely unscathed. The two of us tried to fight back, give Harry enough time to get away, you know, and a Death Eater got him from behind. Took his ear clean off, and it must have been some Dark magic because it won't reconnect or grow back, no matter what Mum does. It was hard to tell with the masks, but the voice sounded a hell of a lot like Snape, the slimy git. We're fine now, but I didn't want the asymmetry to be too unsettling next time you see us, particularly since he's taken to storing anything that will fit up there to get a rise out of Mum. I'm pretty sure this quill was sticking out the side of his head all afternoon. _

_Give them hell,_

_Fred_

The excitement buzzing in her head drained away. Ginny felt as though she had taken a Stunner to the chest. Worse, as though her brother had simply thrown his wand aside and knocked a Bludger in her gut instead.

Then she pitched from the bed with a singularity of purpose. She threw a pair of school robes on over her pajamas, in the process emptying half her trunk onto the floor and attempting to locate her D.A. galleon. She plucked it up as Abigail Lawson was stirring in bed.

Demelza sat up full in her bed, peeking through the curtains. "Ginny, what're you…"

Ginny did not stop to answer, flying through the door barefoot and furious. She did not stop until she had thrown open the door to the seventh year boys' dormitory, giving no heed to the bang it sounded against the wall.

"Whatsits—!" yelped Colin, startling awake. Gregory swore colorfully and their third housemate, a Gryffindor prefect, was clawing at his bed's curtains.

"What is the meaning of this?" he croaked, fighting covers to get out of bed.

"Get out, Kirke," Ginny demanded, stepping aside for him. He stared incredulous at her, but she stabbed her finger.

"Not likely," he rumbled, stalking toward the door. He tried to shove her out but she slipped past him. "Look, I'm prefect and I'll—"

"What are you going to do, hand me over for the Carrows for torture? Take a walk and I'll be gone when you get back."

Scowling, he hesitated only until Ginny thrust her hand into her robes for her wand. "Fine, fine," he grumbled, backing out. "Over Potter, then?"

Ginny shot a half-hearted Stinging Hex at his retreating heels and then turned on the other two boys.

"Blimey, Ginny, what time do you think it is?" asked Gregory, now sitting up in bed with a blanket wrapped about him.

"Ginny, why'd you run out?" asked Demelza, peeking her head in the door. Gregory went red as he staggered off his bed, blanket tight about his waist. "Merlin, Jones, you sleep starkers?" she added, attention arrested by his attempts to put on trousers and flash a rude hand gesture at once.

"What are you doing?" Colin squeaked, finally awake and out of bed.

Ginny flashed him the coin, expression solid. "I'm in," she said. "And I know what Dumbledore's Army is going to do next."

"You woke us up for _that?_ Bloody hell, Ginny, what makes you think you can waltz in and out, give orders? You didn't want in and now…" Gregory trailed off when he got a good look at Ginny's face. Going silent, he stepped closer. "What happened?" he asked, quieter.

She must have been a sight, cheeks flushed and teeth gritted. Her hands were shaking and it was only then that she remembered the letter crushed in her other hand. "George's ear," she seethed, slapping the parchment into his hands. "And because it's for Harry."

The silence that fell over their gathering was almost reverent. Ginny did not mince her words.

"We're going to steal Gryffindor's sword from Snape's office."


End file.
